Orphea's Travails
by Consort
Summary: The story of one of the few heroes to originate within the Nexus... The girl who struggled against all odds, to defeat the evil within her home.
1. Prologue 1: Shadow Waltz

A man looked out of a window for just a moment, reflecting on the world. Dark, purplish clouds rolled over the skies as far as he could see, but the warmth and sunlight needed for most life still filtered through, landing on streams and forests that had been part of the land since it formed.

Where the necessities for life are filled, one often finds life. Human life.

Where there is human life, there is often an authority figure. Someone with more influence than their peers, either by consent or by a system of government that provided order on a larger scale. Or sometimes, strength was used to rule. The man looking out of the window happened to be an authority figure.

And the window he looked out of was a part of his own home. 'Home' might be a somewhat misleading statement, as it conjures images of a house, or perhaps a block of flats, or a car or wagon if you're a certain kind of person. No, his home was a tower. One that had stood precisely since records began, built by Oersted, first pioneer of the Nexus, and founder of Ravencourt, the first of the everlasting realms.

It was a mighty tower, built of the highest-quality stone, and steeped in masterful enchantments. Every floor was large enough to build seveal houses inside, and could have comfortably homed a thousand people. But only the ground floor did so, hosting a great many servants. The others were filled with all manner of documents that could be referred to to keep the land in order, or magical artefacts, or precious resources, or books- mundane and magical alike.

One such floor even contained a magical seal, designed to hold until time itself ceased to tick. The man knew it wouldn't.

He considered how much effort had gone into this tower alone, never mind the rest of the realm. It was a great burden on his shoulders, knowing that all of it would live or die by his machinations.

Still, his plans were on track. He spent every waking moment furthering them, and no matter what he had to sacrifice... he would do what had to be done. And right now, he even stood at the cusp of achieving an important goal. The creation of a magic user powerful enough to-

A cry of pain broke his musings. "Titania? Are you okay?"

He turned around, looking at the rest of the room. His most trusted servant rushed around, taking a few medical items and using them with speed and skill, doing all she could to ease the pain of the woman lying in bed. And without missing a beat, the servant started reporting to him. "She's not having any serious complications. This might take another few minutes, it varies greatly by the child."

"Excellent."

The woman in the bed took a deep breath, one hand clutching the side of the bed hard enough to turn her knuckles even whiter than her normal chalky skin. "Oberon... I-"

"It will be okay. There is nobody in all the Nexus I would trust more than Neeve." Oberon walked over, his cloak sweeping behind him. "Even with a child as magically potent as ours, you are in no danger if you follow her orders."

Neeve sighed. "My lord, she is your wife. She may appreciate a more personal tone."

_She may be my wife, but not by either of our choices. It was simply a necessity, and one I am thankful she didn't oppose._ "...Never fear, Titania. I always do what is best for my people. Do you want me to send for anything?"

Titania's breathing was a little off, Oberon noted. It had to be time. Yet still, she got a few words out. "Hold my hand... hold my hand, and promise me something, Oberon."

Oberon took her free hand, and it clamped down on his. If not for the strength fed to him by the crystal set into his tunic, it would have been a crushingly uncomfortable grip. "What is it?" He asked as softly as he could manage.

"Promise you'll do what's best for her. Please... promise that you'll see her as more than... a piece of your..." Titania didn't finish, whimpering in pain again.

* * *

"What shall we name her?"

Ten minutes had passed. Oberon had never felt like his plans had ever been so close to all crashing down around him. He had immense magic at his disposal, armies, gold, land... he'd never felt helpless in any way before, but knowing that Neeve was doing everything a human could and that anything he did would only make things worse... it was not an experience he wished to repeat.

But now, Titania sat there in the bed, holding a tiny child. Neeve was rushing around again, providing anything Titania needed. A sense of affection rose up inside Oberon. Pride, joy... and hope. All condensed into that little bundle. Yet lingering at the back of all of them... pity. For what he and so many others would put her through.

"I will permit you to choose her middle name, Titania. You have earned that privilege."

Titania blinked, and even seemed a little crushed at Oberon's almost dispassionate words, considering that he'd just witnessed his daughter's birth. "I think... I think we should give her the name of our midwife. I don't think I'd have made it through the birth without her. Your name was... Neeve, ma'am?"

Neeve nodded, and smiled serenely. "You honour me, lady Titania. And I'm sure you'll be glad to know that your baby seems to be completely healthy."

Titania sighed in relief. "Then I am happy. Lord Oberon... what shall her first name be?"

Oberon was quiet for a moment. Everything he cared about rested on this girl. On her becoming wise, intelligent, and powerful beyond compare. She was the very culmination of his bloodline, and key to plans. And if all his designs succeeded, she would be remembered forever as the greatest of beings, one who not only stood beside the legendary heroes of the multiverse, but bested them, and perhaps even brought them to heel. One who mastered the darkness, who saved the very reality they existed in. Her destiny... it was a thing so many would seek to snuff out, but if brought to bear, then it would be truly glorious.

"Orphea." He announced, walking up to the baby and looking down at her. "I hereby name you Orphea Neeve Ravencourt, heir to my Singularity, my magic, and rightful successor to the lordship of the land. I will expect great things from you... daughter."


	2. Prologue 2: Chomp

Oberon swept his leg back to dodge a child's grab, and the toddler stumbled a bit before grabbing onto the leg of his table, and preparing to start chewing.

"Neeve! She's gotten out AGAIN!"

The toddler found a pair of hands scooping her up, and she promptly screamed with rage and burst into tears at the prospect of not being allowed to chew the leg of the table.

Oberon looked at her in confusion for a few seconds, before glaring. "Daughter, it's incredibly rude to act his way."

Orphea didn't take the hint, and continued to throw her tantrum. She waved a hand around, and tried to grab a sheaf of papers that Oberon had been looking at. He swiftly moved her out of range.

The door swung open, and Neeve burst in. "Sorry, Sir Oberon! She was in the playroom while I set the other servants to wash her clothes and she somehow unlocked the-"

"It's fine." Oberon held out the toddler, and Neeve took her. Almost immediately, the screaming ceased. "How did you do that? I'm sure I had the proper technique."

"Milord, you just lack experience. You might benefit from spending more time with your daughter... especially considering how important she is to you." Neeve bounced the toddler.

Oberon nodded sadly, and looked back at the desk. "I... wish I could, Neeve. But I have to maintain our relations with King's Crest." He looked at the papers he'd just been reading. Just numbers on a page, but they made Oberon's heart feel like lead. "And the harvest this year has produced a failing quantity, if this keeps up I'll have mass starvation among the people. And even then, the seal grows weaker by the day. Darkness is seeping through, and even Dead Magic can't hold it back forever. And crime is on the rise in response to the failing food supplies, if things get much worse then I'm going to have to tighten our policing and-"

Neeve looked a little silenced, but Orphea had other plans. The tiny girl waved an arm about, and with just a flicker of some purplish light, the papers on the table went flying.

"Ha!" She proceeded to squeal with delight, as if watching her father dash about to pick them up was the funniest thing she'd ever seen.

Oberon grabbed the last paper, and looked up, a rare expression on his face. "Magic? At this age?"

"She isn't just your daughter." Neeve kept Orphea held, looking out for another little blip of magic. "If anyone would show magic at so young an age, it's her. Titania would be-"

"Don't remind me of her." Oberon said plainly but firmly. He stood, placing the papers back on the table. "Regardless, this is a most welcome and fortuitous turn of events. I shall begin her education immediately!"

"Lord Oberon, she's _two years old._ Most children her age- her included- are still in the process of learning not to bite random objects!" Neeve looked him dead in the one working eye, and was, for some reason, shocked to find out that there was no trace of humor in it.

"She is my scion. I am certain that she will be able to grasp some basic materials at this stage." Oberon looked at the girl with pride, taking in her pure-white hair and equally snowy skin. In many ways, the spitting image of the woman who'd fled long ago. Save for those red eyes... truly, an albino.

"Well, what are you even going to teach her? She can't speak or read, and I think that you need that if you want to-"

Oberon walked over, and held out a hand with confidence. "I'll start with the basics of Dead Magic, and then move onto chaos control and discipline-"

"That's COMBAT MAGIC!"

"I know what I'm doing, Neeve! We've not a second to spare, with so many calamities on the horizon! I need to create a capable agent, governor, fighter, and strategist and I need to do so before everything falls to ruin!" He took a breath, rebuilding his composure, and offered a hand out to Orphea, as she looked at him with an immense scowl from the safety of Neeve's arms. "Take my hand, Orphea. Let us proceed to the library."

He held it close to her face. Perhaps a little too close. He could see something ticking over in that little toddler mind, in the way she looked at his fingers...

She reached out, and Oberon felt instant vindication as she grasped his hand with both of hers- surely a sign of intelligence that was far beyond a normal child her age!

He was distracted for a split second by that, and missed the fact she tugged on his hand and wriggled in Neeve's grip, lunging forwards, opening her mouth wide.

Oberon was fast. Strong. Protected by all kinds of magic. But with all the stars aligning to put something that could penetrate his defences (like the Nexus' only other Dead Magic user) within biting range of his fingers, and also distracting him with the stress of recent events...

Chomp.


	3. Prologue 3: Dread

Oberon checked himself in his mirror, briefly. His formal attire doubled as his combat armour, but now that he was actually going into formal negotiations... it needed to be perfect.

His monocle was polished, the metal without so much as a fingerprint. His hair was slicked back just so, the recent grey streak accentuated with a professional style. His beard was freshly trimmed, neat and pointed. Combine that with his armour and cloak, in dark shades with a gold trim to match the singularity set into the chestplate. All in flawless order. He completed the ensemble with his best staff, the leather bindings freshly replaced by Neeve.

He liked to cut an imposing figure. Although of course, that had to be backed up by actions.

He walked out of the door, heading down to the meeting room. This would be a critical moment, one he couldn't afford to misplay- the fruits of weeks of planning were at stake, as was thousands of acres of land. So he was glad to encounter Orphea before he was anywhere near the meeting.

"Father!"

Oberon looked over with his good eye, but didn't turn his face. Orphea had grown over the years, he was glad to say. At twelve, she had a neat hairline with minimal effort, and had no trouble maintaining her composure when in negotiations with any villages that thought themselves too good for his control- or when handling any executions that might result from it.

Although, she retained an irritating lack of respect for her superiors. Perhaps the natural consequence for being taught to think critically at all times, but it did lead to some very careful selection of what kind of people she could be exposed to.

"I thought you would have learned you do NOT interfere with any meetings I hold unless invited by now. Unless you've forgotten your last punishment?"

"I only wanted to request to speak after the meeting. I... have a matter that must be discussed, lord father."

Oberon raised an eyebrow. Using his title? That didn't happen every day. But he already knew what she wanted to discuss. There was only one possibility. Neeve would have made sure that the vital reports detailing his victory would have been left loose in the library, and that in turn would spark her investigation... leading to a conclusion she would find unbearable.

If not for the fact he'd chosen it for the purpose of utter moral repulsion, he would have executed anyone that dared do what he had done.

"Granted. I will wait in the meeting room after negotiations are finished. Be sure not to show yourself before they have been recruited."

"Of course, lord father."

* * *

Oberon strode into the room, the doors opening with a mere thought. A long table was set for four, facing his seat, with a larger, grander desk. A glass was set at every position, servants standing to the side with pitchers of water, wine, and poison should the need arise.

A minute passed, and the doors opened. Two figures walked in, a mockery of confidence and organisation. Oberon was sure each of them was extremely accomplished in many ways, but the defeat he had dealt them two days ago was absolute. They had been crushed on all fronts, subjugated irrespective of any attempt to escape or resist, and had watched their liege's near-instant death.

"Wyrm, Spider Warden. I see that the Grave Warden has neglected to attend."

The woman on the left stepped forwards, and curtesied. Her flesh was greyed, far past life but lingering in a miraculously intact state- and both her eyes, and two great horns of bone that sprouted from her skull glowed with an etheral power. She would have been majestic, had she been able to bury her fear just a little deeper. "He has chosen to attend the dead, as is his sacred duty. None could hope to stop him without his destruction."

"Then he is of no worth to me, and all under his domain are forfiet to my every demand." Oberon surmised. "Sit down, both of you. My demands are as follows; I will allow you a choice, first of all. You may opt to die now, and I will permit you to die however you please. Or you may take your troops and join my army. If you choose to join, I will offer you some power to negotiate the fate of the Grave Keeper's lands and posessions."

"..." The spider warden was silent, staring at Oberon. She leaned on the table, almost as if preparing to leap over and attack.

"I have no reservations. I will fold my Grey Dragonflight to you in exchange for allowing the people to continue life as they did before."

"Not acceptable. They will be governed by my laws, not yours. And they will pay a tithe to us in grain, to sustain us through our lesser harvests."

"...I have looked at your laws, and I find these terms..." The Wyrm grit her teeth. "I... can I not convince you to exempt us from your laws regarding funerals? The sacred mausoleum has housed our dead for thousands of years, and-"

Oberon held up a hand for pause. "I am willing to grant you that, along with the rank of general, in exchange for your absolute loyalty. If I order you to your death, you will march without a word."

"I accept." The Wyrm's words were instant, but had no undertone of sincerity in them. Anyone would be right to be suspicious... anyone but a master mage.

Oberon focused on his staff, energies from his singularity weaving through it, empowering his magic immensely. With his powers, these words were more than words. "Then you are bound to my will, undead. Know that defiance will snuff your second life like a candle in a storm."

The Wyrm's hand seemed to seize up for a second, as arcane energy materialised from the air, and formed a lattice over her skin, before fading. She closed her eyes. "...Be careful, Warden."

The Spider Warden sat there, unblinking. "I too must ask about our laws. You do not hold criminals to our standards."

"You wish to see someone released?"

"I will those convicted PERISH." The Warden pressed her fingers into the table. "Be it by blade or poison, none escape justice. I am- was the lady responsible for justice in our land, and I refuse to cede the title while I draw breath. You will allow me to enforce the laws, or you will kill me here and now."

Oberon smiled just a little. "I am glad to have you. I see no problem allowing a familiar face to help keep the masses under control- but you will enforce my laws, and you will answer to my court if the crime calls for it. And just as The Wyrm, you will give me the ultimate command over your armies and yourself, to order as I will."

"This is acceptable. I take it I'm now bound, just as she is?"

"Indeed."

Oberon could only feel overjoyed. Gaining control of the full military of the Gravekeeper was a great boon, especially his coveted 'Grey' Dragonflight, comprised of nearly a hundred undead dragons- the only thing more dangerous than a regular dragon was one that didn't need to fear taking a ballista bolt to the heart.

The extra troops would prove essential to the welfare of his own people in the coming struggle... not to mention the additional crops. But outward, he was a man with a heart of stone, who bid the two generals their leave.

They got up, and walked back to the courtyard, where the servants would introduce them to their new duties. Wasn't preparation efficient?

Oberon remained seated, for another few minutes.

The doors opened, and a small girl walked in. "Father."

"Take a seat, please. What do you need to discuss?"

"Two things. Firstly, there might have been a breach in the tower's security. Important documents were left on the table in the library, anyone could have read them- and they pertained to your strategy against the Grave Keeper. That information would be a dire threat to Ravencourt in the hands of our enemies."

Oberon watched her. The words were clearly rehearsed, and she was thinking as she should if she wanted to be a good heir. Excellent. And better yet, she was opening just as she knew he would like, to make him more receptive to the point she would now make- splendid. He felt no shame playing along. "Understood. I will conduct an investigation into who could have had the chance to read the documents. You placed them into safe storage?"

"I had Neeve add them to the rest of the reports. She could be trusted." Orphea said, keeping her posture. "Now, my other point... I saw when I was identifying the documents just what your strategy relied on."

"Ah. The Dark Nexus, I presume?"

Orphea took a steady breath. "Father... these lands are some of the only permanent fixtures within the Nexus. If you ruin them with this magic... then the other realms that come and go, fading with time and taking heroes or bringing them as the powers that be please... they can't sustain life without us to provide stability in times of crisis. You could kill everyone. Each and every Raven Lord has accepted, and even confirmed this fact."

She brushed her dress off once, and put a hand over her heart. "And on a personal note... regardless of what you've done... I know the killings- the suffering was necessary. And beyond that, I know you did it for the good of Ravencourt. So... I still see you as my father, and... I'm not ready to lose my father yet. So I want you to swear off the Dark Nexus. Here and now."

"That's a lofty demand, daughter. The victory it won us will significantly ease our struggles."

"I know I present a compelling argument." Orphea said carefully. "The Dark Nexus will strip you of reason all too quickly, and so I can't let things devolve to where I need to bargain with you, or try and somehow coerce you."

Oberon nodded. "...Very well. I will not interact with it further."

"Swear it. I can't let this pass without you swearing it."

"Then I swear, I shall not allow the Dark Nexus to encroach on us even a hair further." Oberon let the words out easily, relieved and ashamed his plan was working so smoothly. This was no binding vow, as his magic had forged minutes earlier. No, this was based purely on trust.

Which would be exactly what he required.

"Thank you. I'll return to my lessons now, father." Orphea turned and left, her emotions receding far below the surface. Oberon wondered if she'd put on the little display genuinely or not, but ultimately... it didn't matter.

She would feel the same way about him regardless, when all was said and done.


	4. Chapter 1: En Pointe

Orphea always imagined she'd feel more nervous. That choosing to stand against the authority she'd been born into and raised to serve would tear her apart, leaving her questioning her every action until some dramatic finish led to her defeat. How wrong her offhanded daydreams had been.

She checked her outfit. The one she always wore when on official business- purple with golden trim all around, slim leggings and a shirt with tight, stretching sleeves, but looser shoulders for dexterity. All made to look absolutely gorgeous with the 'dress' that was perhaps closer to a jacket, a protective thing that was thickly laced with more gold across the front, a perfect little bow placed below her throat. Daddy's little enforcer, ready to head out and quash a rebellion, and be back in time to be reprimanded for not being back sooner.

She took the last piece of her ensemble, a black tiara, and slipped it over her head, careful not to disturb her hair. The clothing was all enchanted to stay perfect no matter what. The hair was only neat because she put time into it.

A quick look in the mirror confirmed everything was in order. But she needed to move unseen, just for the first half of the plan she'd formed. So she finally reached for a thick purple cloak, perfect for the cold of Ravencourt nights, and slipped it over her head. "Neeve, I'm ready."

The door creaked on oiled hinges. It had been slammed one time too many, perhaps. An older woman stepped through. "You're ready? Wonderful. If there's anything you need to say goodbye to..?"

"No. My father would only use it against me."

Neeve nodded. "Then, I'll go and make sure Oberon recieves his meal exactly on time. Here's the document for the guards, with my... ah... 'forged' signature."

"Excellent. I'm glad I've been able to rely on you, Neeve." Orphea took the slip of paper entailing her 'assignment', and folded it twice, before slotting it into her pocket meticulously. "You were more of a parent to me than the real ones ever were."

"Ah, I'm glad to know you turned out well, Orphea. I'll be off now, no time to waste." Neeve smiled a wily smile, and leaned in a bit. "But remember! Don't make a fool of yourself!"

Orphea smirked. "Unless it makes someone else a bigger one."

* * *

She walked along the corridors quickly, but not with any true urgency. Her plan was both simple and meticulous, combining a lack of stages at which it could go wrong with very careful planning to hopefully allow it to run smoothly. No plan could survive a changing situation, so she couldn't afford to cause any reactions.

So the first part of her plan was easy. Walking up to the forbidden floor like she was asked to, taking an object worth more than the collective lives of a small town, wrapping it in a cloth, and walking out. Thank goodness for her magic lessons covering more than the family specialty, or she'd never be able to haul the thing around.

So, Orphea walked up the flights of stairs, light on her feet, with all the confidence and grace she could muster wrapped under an emotionless mask, that of The Raven Lord's best agent.

Thirty seconds into the plan, it went wrong. There was a guard at the Room Of Seals.

"Good afternoon, Wyrm." The pronounciation was critical. Orphea knew of her father's generals, and exactly how to pull their strings. In this case, how to keep those strings limp.

"It is a nice day for an undead, isn't it." The Spectral Wyrm smiled, looking out of the window. Purplish clouds rolled as always, over a cold but calm day. "He's finally allowed you up here?"

"I'm to retrieve a sarcophagus, for my present mission. I'm... truthfully excited to see the room, but there's no time to stand and gawk." Orphea looked at the doors. Huge things of metal and oak, with a huge raven emblem over them. The family crypt. The seal on the Dark Nexus. The greatest concentration of magical energy in the Nexus, if not the multiverse- though Orphea admitted she lacked knowledge about the multiverse at large.

The Wyrm stood aside and bowed politely, her horns dipping.

Orphea pushed the doors open, confident her plan was salvaged. If not, then she was too far in to back out now. She stepped into the crypt, and felt Dead Magic wash over her very being like air from a hot oven. It was simultaneously invigorating and horrific.

It was a circular chamber, about thirty metres in diameter. A smaller pillar in the centre had a pair of stone statues holding pikes across a door set into the bricks- and just looking at that unassuming door, Orphea sensed something- MANY somethings, all of them roiling in chaos and contradiction, as if both tortured and torturing others. She was almost transfixed by the sealed doorway, but tore her eyes away.

The rest of the room had a lattice of a wall, countless slots sculpted into it neatly. The first forty-seven were filled, the rest empty. Orphea knew it was forty-seven, for that was how many lords had passed since Oersted sealed the Dark Nexus. Every coffin glowed with purple energy, harsh light seeping out and seeming to be sucked into the door- or perhaps pressed into it.

Orphea would have selected Oersted's coffin. Alas, it was out of reach- so she focused on the one closest to her, and cast a spell to reduce its' weight, before easily slipping it from its' alcove. She unfolded a piece of cloth, quickly folded it over the coffin, and tied it up with the harness kept behind it. She was thankful for her ancestors' foresight, accepting that a coffin might have to be removed at some point.

As she slung the strap over her shoulder, magic spiked through her mind like a thunderclap. It was like connecting a battery to a dead toy-

'A battery? Really?'

"Who's there?!" Orphea whispered, before realising someone had read her thoughts. "...Ah, you must be..." She went over to read a plaque at the bottom of the alcove. "...Osiris. The sixteenth Raven Lord.'

'Excellent, my host can read. I did worry I'd have to teach you, little girl.'

Orphea shook her head and turned to walk out. The metaphorical clock was ticking.

'Not the type to talk? Well, isn't that just my luck. I was having the best conversation about being dead with Otharon before you so rudely interrupted.'

Orphea politely shut the giant doors behind her, and marched past the Spectral Wyrm. If... whatever spirit in the coffin was talking to her mentally, it stood to reason she could respond-

'A good deduction. You're a worthy ten year old.'

'I. Am. Thirteen.'

'Oh, marvellous. I'm one thousand and sixty nine in ten months, and I've been excited for that for longer than you'd want to suspect. Spending a thousand years shackled to the mortal plane isn't terribly exciting.'

Orphea descended the stairs swiftly, keeping a firm hand on the handrail. Dying by falling down the stairs, of all things... that would be a rather bad joke. 'So our preservation process entraps the soul?'

'Indeed. And rather horribly too, since you get to feel your embalmed body get progressively more embalmed.'

'It is a necessary sacrifice.' Orphea was surprised how that line came out like clockwork, even in her own head. She heard a hearty chuckle, one that didn't belong to an old man, come back to her.

'Oh, it's no bother. Misery loves company, and we've been having quite the retirement party up there, holding off doomsday for eternity and slowly failing. Now, what do you need old dead Osiris for?'

Orphea descended a few more flights of stairs as she put together her sales pitch. 'I humbly request you lend me the power we preserved along with your body, that I may prevent my Father destroying the Nexus. I beseech you, O Lord Osiris.'

'Just call me grandfather. Although I have felt younger ever since I had my spirit ripped from my body and then tethered back to it. Wait, what's your father doing? I presume he would be the current Raven Lord, as you're a Dead Magic user?'

'My father... Er, Oberon to you...' Orphea tried to think of a way to break it gently. Think being the keyword.

'HE DID **_WHAT_**.'

'He's tapped into the power of the Dark Nexus twice now.' Orphea confirmed. 'The first time... he did it to win an easy victory over another lord, to bolster our resources. I made him swear off because of the risks, but now he's used it again, and for a trivial matter his singularity was more than enough for. He's falling into madness so fast... I'm going to-'

'Don't say another word, I'm with you all the way. If that absolute cretin thinks to unleash the Dark Nexus I'll- I'll- Damn, if I weren't dead and boxed up I'd rip him a new one!'

Orphea felt a welling of power in the box she carried, and a thin film of sweat coated her brow. 'No, don't give us away now! We can't possibly win against father, he has the singularity AND the Dark Nexus, even before we factor in everyone that doesn't know about the Dark Nexus and will follow his orders, which is everyone but Neeve!'

'Neeve..? Oh, your mother. I see.'

The accelerated pace of Orphea's heart slowly returned to normal, as nothing seemed to react to Osiris' fury. 'She's not my... nevermind. We're coming to the bottom floor, so don't distract me while I get out.'

'That's no tone to take with your elder, you know!' Osiris chuckled again, before the presence left Orphea's mind.

Well, it seemed she'd picked up an ally as well as a magical battery. How dreadful, she'd been so looking forwards to the time alone when she could focus on her work.

'Hey, rude! I can still hear you.'

'Shush, grandfather!'

* * *

Neeve looked at the clock. It was true, digital ones were more reliable, and they even kept an atomic clock in one of the rooms downstairs. But everyone agreed that old mechanical clocks added a nice aesthetic to this tower.

Regardless, ten minutes had passed. It surely wouldn't be long until The Raven Lord had finished his cheese and crackers, and then the first thing he would do would be to mentally read the magic of the realm, and sense Orphea... and find her somewhere in the town. Where she was forbidden to be without being sent with a purpose.

It had been immensely difficult to plot anything against The Raven Lord. Each singularity had a special power associated with it- this was common knowledge. But far more closely guarded... his was the power of sight. He could see visions of all times and places as he wished, if he only thought of the place to look. Neeve shuddered to think what would happen if he'd checked on her and Orphea as they discussed her plan to flee the darkness, and defeat her father.

There was a shuffling in the room, and Oberon came running out. "Neeve! NEEVE!"

"Lord Oberon? Is something the matter?"

"...Orphea has done as I hoped. I have much to tell you." He whispered, before straightening his back and clapping his hands once, a wisp of magic curling out. "Guards! Attend me!"

Neeve could only feel her hope plummeting, punching through her heart and leaving it in her mouth.

* * *

Orphea heard a bell ringing as she ran through the town, cloth bundle on her back. It was a normal day in Ravencourt, no dramatic weather to comemmorate the grim task Orphea was about to undertake. She was very thankful for that. Overcast skies were her favourite for attending business, not too hot and not wet.

'Orphea, what's that bell?'

'The alarm bell, grandfather.' Orphea thought back, as she continued to run. She was already far from the tower, past the gardens that ringed it and also served as a defence line against any would-be attackers. Once you passed the gardens and entered the town, some would consider slipping into the back alleys and vanishing...

Orphea knew better. The only hope she had for long-term safety was to manage to get to somewhere that could repel her father's armies by force. In the short term, she should just spend as much time possible in places that her people wouldn't be at risk of fallout from anything she had to magically annihilate.

Their lives were not personally important to her, but the protecting the life of any citizen of Ravencourt was a duty she took very, very seriously. They had entrusted her with their protection, after all.

'How noble.'

'Grandfather, please... let me have a little privacy.'

'Not right now. I detect a surge of magic from the tower, and it's coming this way. Do you want me to do anything about that? A barrier, perhaps? Nullification? Return fire?'

Orphea shook her head. 'I don't want to show my hand too early, nor am I going to use Dead Magic in my town.' She took another few hasty steps, before there was a boom of thunder in the distance.

What followed was a sound that managed to be both immeasurably loud, and completely painless. "ORPHEA." Oberon's voice, magically magnified, carried out across the area with ease. "RETURN TO THE TOWER AT ONCE!"

"Never!" She yelled back. He was looking now, she knew it. "I can't stand by and let you destroy us all!"

"YOU WOULD BETRAY RAVENCOURT? THE LAND WE HAVE BEEN SACRIFICING OURSELVES FOR FOR GENERATIONS?"

"If it means saving the Nexus, so be it! Come and get me, Father... Oberon!"

"I THINK NOT." There was a brief pause. "ALL GUARDS, LET IT BE KNOWN ORPHEA HAS TURNED TRAITOR. BRING ME HER HEAD!"

Orphea kept running as fast as she could, but she saw guardsmen already getting up from their posts, gripping weapons or beginning spells. Far more than she could possibly fight off alone... So she looked straight ahead, and kept sprinting. In the far distance she could see a mountain range, and beyond it was her goal.

An arrow zipped through the air. A perfect shot by all accounts, lined up with the side of her head. The metal tip would punch through a skull like it was an eggshell.

Orphea just kept running as it dinged off the barrier her tiara provided, sweating as she saw more and more guards converging on her. An instinctive need to survive told her to fling some bolts of Dead Magic at them, that their lives were worth nothing compared to the whole Nexus... But these were the people she'd spent her every waking moment striving to protect. Her people. Until their lives absolutely had to be taken for the good of more, she would hold her fire.

And instead, decided she would have to show a little more of her hand. Her steps became longer, transitioning into skips and then striding jumps, before with some effort and a few little bursts of magic, she was floating along, her great magic moving her instead of her small legs. She sped along the street, a clear straight road to the exit of the town.

'Hmm... not bad for someone your age.'

'I was taught for longer than I can remember. Magic is first nature to me.' They shot through the gates with a plume of dust trailing, outpacing the guards easily.

'See it doesn't cause you to neglect your body, Orphea. If you're going to go through with this plan of yours... you'll need every advantage you can get.'

* * *

Oberon looked up from his desk to see the head of the town guards, drenched in sweat. "I'm sorry sir. She was too fast once she started levitating. It looks like she's going to head straight to-"

"I know where she is going." The Raven Lord interrupted. "What concerns me is that you couldn't bring her down. This failure is utterly unacceptable."

"I... Am aware of the seriousness, my lord."

"Excellent. Then you'll take your execution with grace." He said succinctly.

The guardsmen recoiled. "E-execution?! My lord, you have never-"

"I must set an example." Oberon rose from his chair, shadows seeming to rise behind him and tower over the poor man. "When I give an order such as this, there is no room for failure." He raised an empty hand. "Tell me... would you like your corpse displayed whole or in pieces?"

The guard was frozen in horror for a few seconds before The Raven Lord clicked his fingers, and he vanished. The rest of his unit stared in quaking horror.

"The rest of you... begone from my sight, and do not forget this."

They scrambled like startled rats.

Neeve stood in the corner of the room, mouth agape. "Was that truly necessary, sir?! He... he had a family! He did no wrong!"

"It was absolutely necessary." Oberon sighed. "And the most cost-efficient way to achieve my goals. Come. Time is of the essence." He walked around the table, and pushed the door open. "And I must explain a few things to you before I kill myself."

Neeve warily followed. "Sir Oberon, you intend to... I surely heard that wrong?"

"You did not. Today is the last day I will draw breath as a sane man. Anything else I manage will be the echoes of a soul fighting a losing battle." He walked out of the room and straight for the staircase, ascending two steps at a time, clutching his staff and gritting his teeth.

Neeve struggled to keep up, and was sorely out of breath by the time she reached the floor Oberon had gotten off at. "Sir... I'm... quite old..."

"Then I hope your memory isn't failing, or we're all condemned to die." Oberon muttered, keeping his voice below what The Spectral Wyrm would hear. He marched up to the Room Of Seals, shoving the doors open, and slamming them the second Neeve was through... but not without inspecting them, ensuring they were ajar enough to let sound through.

Then he swiftly started walking around the circular room, moving behind the pillar. Neeve followed in silent awe at her first time in this forbidden sanctum. Breaking into this room was one of the only crimes she knew that carried a guarantee of torture before your execution. She was surprised to come to another archway, that led to another small room, a tiny thing with four gaping, unsealed windows. Oberon stood in the middle.

"Isn't that unsecure?"

"If you're not from my bloodline, these are solid walls on the outside." He said offhandedly, clearly thinking about something else. After a few moments, he turned to face Neeve. "I have two messages for you to give Orphea when you next see her, Neeve."

"Ah... are you going to kill me?"

"No, of course not. I already managed to drive Orphea away, killing you would be pointless and a dire insult to your services. First, you need to tell her the key to killing me. She is the only one capable of withstanding my magic- but I will still easily overwhelm her in a normal fight. So remember this above all, Neeve- Some Evils Are So Vile, They Must Destroy Themselves."

Neeve paused. "Those were... lady Titania's last words to you!"

"Indeed. They will give Orphea the hint she needs." Oberon put a hand on his chest, and the blue gem set into it. "Secondly, and much less importantly... I will seal several sets of my memories within this Singularity. They will grant her much insight, and access to new tools in the coming wars."

"It shall be done, Lord Oberon."

"Thank you. I knew I could rely on you behaving as expected." Oberon brushed off his front, and tapped the floor with his staff. "Now, I will perform a quick check for Orphea in town... and then, proceed to the main event." His form dissolved into feathers, and in a mind-boggling flurry a raven was flying across the skies.

Oberon looked down, as he soared and reached out to sense any trace of his daughter. As he planned, none. She was making a beeline for the border.

As the flight would be his last... Oberon decided to compose some nice final words, to lead up to his dramatic exit.

'For thousands of years, we have watched such battles rage in the Nexus.'

He adjusted his flight path towards the tower, coming in for a landing. His check had been superficial, he just had to be sure that things were okay... and perhaps he'd wanted to see his life's work, before he was forced to tear it all down.

'But there is always more to them, if you have the power to look closer.'

Oberon landed on his feet in human form, cape billowing and shining blue Singularity crystal held aloft, and in his clearest, most far-carrying voice shouted a command. "Show me the nearest realms!"

Visions flooded his mind, of sand and temples, ships and seas, billions of acres of wild lands, and of a Kingdom Of Dragons, one that would shortly prove pivotal in his machinations.

'Grasping and weak, all of them. They know not what awaits us.'

"Now, show me the furthest reaches of the Nexus!"

Gold light filled his view. A mass of cosmic energy that built and built, already enough to make his precious Dead Magic look like a drop of water faced with the ocean. And behind that golden power, a woman looked on dispassionately...

'It has grown worse than I ever imagined! The end is coming. A tide of annihilation that will consume all... what hope is left?'

"Hm?!" He called out, sure that the Wyrm would hear. "This is the sign! I must hold off this threat by conquering this new realm, but my armies lack the strength. And yet... There are Others I can call upon."

He strode back into the main chamber of the Room Of Seals, looking at Neeve expectantly. She raised an eyebrow. "Quite the commotion in there, sir."

"In spite of everything, this day has come." He announced.

Neeve looked like she were humoring a toddler. "And what day is that, precisely?"

"You cannot advise me in this, Neeve! Keep to yourself." He started walking back around the room, towards the entrance- and the seal.

"That's what you say when things are about to go terribly wrong." Neeve spoke from experience. When people weren't accepting advice... they knew they were doing something unadvised.

"SILENCE!"

"You don't mean that. You rarely mean anything you say like that." She followed him in a huff. Oberon's theatrics left something to be desired.

"You will soon understand." He reached the sealed door, and looked directly at it. Four huge arcane golems stood in front of the doorway- two weak ones under his control, and two strong ones that answered to nothing but their impressed duty. "The search for Orphea must hasten. Find her or face my wrath."

The lesser golems saluted. "Yes my lord!" In a ripple of energy, they vanished.

"Why not wait for your daughter's return before acting rashly, sir?" Neeve asked dryly.

"I cannot. It is too late."

"So this is serious after all..." She murmured sarcastically. "And it involves the chamber your entire ancestry has sworn not to enter?"

"Perhaps."

"The one with guards who kill anyone who approaches?"

Oberon waved his hand, and a purple haze grew intense, before the two golems clattered to the floor, reduced to inert rock. "What guards?"

Neeve's eyes widened, as it all hit her. Despite the theatrics, the voice surely intended to be overheard... the man in front of her was actually about to do something truly, deeply insane. "There's no way to control beings from the Dark Nexus... Unleash them and your family will never forgive you."

Oberon walked up to the seal itself, a small glass sphere. "I accept that." He placed a hand on the sphere, and it seemed to thrum with a nervous energy. "Now GO."

Neeve stepped back once, twice, and then fled, closing the doors behind her. Oberon was left alone. He took a deep breath, prayed that he wouldn't fail, and crushed the seal. Glass shards fell to the floor, a trickle of blood on his palm. The doors blew open immediately, as if a gale were on the other side.

The Raven Lord stepped through, and the energy of chaos hit him like a freight train. It was a door to another dimension, a circular room far larger than the Room Of Seals. White stone formed the walls that rose high above, the 'seal' placed on this side of the door by Oersted.

Oberon called out with his singularity. There was one vital piece of his plans out there. One being that had unknowingly given all the Nexus a chance at life, by mimicking another.

With his sight unlimited, Oberon had seen the creature called Dehaka- a hero from another dimension, as many were... but Dehaka was missing an arm when he appeared here. He was _damaged_. And that damage would transfer to the negative copy the Dark Nexus made, if Oersted's records were correct. And that damage would grant him a way to harness this realm's chaotic miasma.

He pulled with his Singularity, drawing across all this blasted land for that one core.

Three gemstones floated in on the wind, moving erratically and dangerously, as if to try and strike whatever came close. An emerald-green one, a ruby-red one, and... a purplish one that matched the colours of Dead Magic... with a separated chunk floating away from it.

In a split second, the three core gemstones halted in front of Oberon, and sprouted many grey, floating chunks of a smooth rock-like substance, that wickedly mirrored the form of heroes Oberon knew of. Gul'dan, Alarak... and true to prediction, Dehaka. While they bore recognisible, twisted faces, these were not the real things- merely the malicious, chaotic traits each of them held, magnified over and over...

All three let out battle cries, and attacked.

Oberon formulated a plan instantly. With a few nimble steps he skirted out of the blast of green 'flame' from the Dark Nexus' Gul'dan, and brought up his empty hand, blocking Dark Nexus Alarak's descending blade effortlessly, deflecting his momentum to stun him. Dark Nexus Dehaka was purposely uninterrupted... and charged. Oberon could see that split core, a weak mockery of a singularity or even another core. And calling on his Singularity, Oberon reached out and overpowered that core, breaking it's will and overriding it, and finally... merging with it.

Oberon died.

The man left standing in his place grasped his head, as it was set spinning like a top with untold vicious fury, the thirst for the blood of all life, the burning desire to feel something crushed to death in his jaws! But the high passed as the human brain now wired to the core fought back, and pushed the urge to rampage down, for the time being. His mind was now one with those of the Dark Nexus.

DNAlarak and DNGul'dan looked on with fear. Raw, undiluted fear.

"We... Serve..." Whispered Gul'dan, a grating sound of a voice never meant to be used.

"You'd better." Retorted The Raven Lord. Another wave of murderous desires washed through him, and he could so vividly imagine the beautiful crunch DNGul'dan's core would make when he crushed it in his bare hands like that feeble seal.

The Raven Lord turned, beckoning the two surviving monsters to follow him.

He pointed a hand to DNGul'dan. "Our wars begin! First you will lead my armies to the Towers of Doom and crush the pathetic little rebellion there! Show me a force that can take a new realm! A power more vast than any the Nexus has ever seen!"

And swept another to point to Alarak, grasping the fragment of core that had been separated from DNDehaka. "And you... bring me Orphea's heart, roasted on a spit!"

The Raven Lord laughed, knowing full well what he had unleashed.

But a deep-set memory told him to do something... something with that shard in his hand... Before he knew it, magic whisked it away, embedding it in a pre-chosen wall, hundreds of miles away.

Whatever. There was much more to do than worry about some broken piece of crystal...


	5. Chapter 2: Growing Nightmare

Orphea landed once the town was out of sight, conserving the magical energies she'd been drawing out from herself. With a split second to fix her bow, she took up a brisk walking pace. The evening was upon her, light beyond the clouds fading.

Ravencourt was bathed in shadows in moments, chilling winds drifting across the land. The clouds were most effective at choking out a dying light.

Orphea walked along. Enduring mild cold was something she knew was a common trait. She still took all the precautions, magical charms ready to warm her hands, the spells to create shelter from a harsh night written into her memory. 'So, by my calculations, we'll reach the village of Mossgrove in three hours. Once I get there, I'll rest the night and buy my supplies for the trek to the town near the border forests, and then I can cross to my destination.'

'Your destination?'

'I'll let you know when we get there. I'm not in the mood to take advice from people that can't leave me alone in my own head.'

'Well how rude! You know, most people would be overjoyed to have the chance to talk with their departed grandfather again.'

'I never knew mine. I believe he worked himself to death in his thirties.' Orphea thought, as she kept up her hasty walking. She'd done all the calculations in advance, she'd measured out her walking speed, how many days she'd have to stop outside the safety of civilisation, how long it would take to cross Alterac, and even weighed up whether or not Ravencourt would be able to stage a full-scale invasion of her safe haven.

'Well, at least you're prepared. But this isn't a journey that will be easy. If you-'

Of course, none of these calculations had accounted for both of them being suddenly silenced by a great shockwave of magic, a ripple so almighty that even on the other side of the Nexus, people would feel it.

The Dark Nexus was opened.

Orphea clapped a hand over her mouth and stood very straight, before standing alert. "This seems problematic." She uttered clearly, just as she always did when a village decided to try and betray her. Then normal thinking took over. "Grandfather, I think we'd best hurry. We need to avoid capture."

'No need to say it verbally.'

She ran a few steps more, and floated up, rushing forwards. 'You'd think it would take longer to break such a seal.'

'Well, our collectively disowned relative DOES have a Singularity. There's a great deal of power locked inside those gems.'

'...I won't give up. I only have one chance- I can't let it end after getting so far.' Orphea spurred herself on, rushing down the path.

* * *

It took two hours to complete her swift run to Mossgrove, and Orphea saw the guards at the gates stand to attention as she approached. That was strange, surely they'd heard by now that she was a traitor? The Raven Lord had announced it across all the realm! She'd expected to have to sweep them aside and vanish into the alleyways, before making a quick trip to some third-rate inn desperate enough to accept a Butcher demon if it had coins.

As she got a little closer, she saw one was carrying a lance, with a pistol on his hip. His uniform was slightly unironed- technically against regulations, but enforcing things that strictly wasn't going to do morale any good. The second had a standard-issue enchanted bow, and a nice Bowie knife strapped to his hip. The standard setup for guarding a gate.

"Lady Orphea." The first saluted.

"Greetings, sir." Orphea dropped to the ground gracefully, walking forwards but paying careful attention to weapons and reach. Her clothes could only protect her so much. "I take it you've heard the news?"

The second guard stepped aside. "We've no plans to let anyone know we saw you."

The first looked around, as if someone could be listening. "We... recieved a phone call from Towertown. The head of the guards was... mutilated and executed for failure to catch you, and..."

"We don't think we can possibly win. So you can play nice and we'll turn a blind eye for now. But you'll be watched, and if there's even a peep out of you we're all going to attack." He finished, holding his lance firmly. "That's our ultimatum we all agreed on."

"Well, I commend the initiative, but I could be a serious threat." Orphea pointed out. This felt like the world's most blatant trap. "I could come in and show you why I've been branded a traitor."

'Girl, are you out of your mind?!'

"...It's a fair worry of ours. But we know we can't beat The Enforcer with two normal men. It'd take all us guards. If we have to put the town at risk for it to stand a chance... that's what we do, ma'am."

Orphea lightly crossed her arms. "Well, I'm glad you all think so highly of me. I'll abide by your request, but don't think I'll take kindly to any attempt to stab me in the back."

"Then you... may proceed." The guard said, with a nervous swallow. Even at this distance, Orphea could tell they were on edge. Was that indicative they were about to attack?

'Ah, I see now.' Osiris mused. 'You had to fish for information on the political climate.'

'...Not quite how I'd put it, but reasonable.' Orphea walked through. 'Be ready to supply me with extra magic, and don't unless instructed. I'm trained to fight off a group of attackers, but it won't be pretty, and it's not a simple dance routine.'

The town was dim at this hour, enchanted streetlamps giving off a ghostly blue light. Orphea smiled a bit at seeing one of those lamps. They were designed not to ruin your night vision, and the blue fire was indeed gentle on the eyes, flickering inside a classic glass lampshade atop a steel post. She could only feel pride at knowing Ravencourt's research and skill with the arcane let it stand equal to worlds of science and technology... not that they opposed such things.

So, the next step was simple. Find an inn that would accept a girl who was carrying a large object wrapped in cloth on her back.

'How much gold are you carrying, Orphea?'

'...I couldn't rob my father's coffers. Ethics aside, too difficult. I have some items I can barter with. Bits of formal wear like rings, some keepsakes.'

'And you have no personal savings?'

'Why would I? I was the heir apparent to Ravencourt. I suppose I still am, although that's not worth much without a convoy that can cover my expenses.'

'That, and your father wanted to keep you on a short leash, I imagine...'

'Please. Don't think ill of my father... ruling is difficult. Ruling a land that's pressed for food, in a world that constantly changes, facing threats that all have the potential to be civilisations developed to the point they can snap their fingers and launch a nuclear barrage? Not a day went past that I didn't respect him, even if I got angry sometimes.'

'Yet now...'

'Yes. Unleashing the Dark Nexus is unforgivable. Even if we were on the verge of total collapse... beyond taboo. I just can't think why he'd ever consort with it... he was a smart man.' Orphea confirmed. She looked over the streets, scanning the many shops that had closed, and the other shops that had stayed open. There ought to be an inn of some description here, the town sprung up from a necessity to give travellers rest on the way to Towertown.

All that was interrupted as Orphea felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

'Grandfather, do you feel that?' Orphea turned around slowly, sure she'd felt something cold. Something that made her blood tingle.

'Dark Nexus. Coming this way- I'm sure of it.'

Orphea grit her teeth, then relaxed. To show panic would be unbecoming. She walked back towards the gate, trying to peer through. There was a faint light on the horizon... a green one.

No, it wasn't on the horizon. It was travelling along the ground. And it was getting closer fast. "Guards, what's that?" Orphea called out.

"We... don't know, ma'am." Responded one who'd been standing by.

"I sense something from it... and I don't like it!" Orphea snapped her fingers, and a little ball of shadowy energy with a ghostly-white core formed. "Be ready, it may be hostile!"

"Can we really trust you right now?!" The guard snapped.

Before more words could be said, there was an explosion at the gate. A huge blast of green flame and rock, all layered with a bizarre triangular pattern. The gate was reduced to a smoking crater, and Orphea resignedly wrote off two guardsmen. They'd been less than competent, although in her favor. Left standing in the blast zone was a green... thing. Some kind of amalgamation of smooth stone shards, arranged around a spherical core that shone with light.

"That must be from..." Whispered Orphea, concentrating on her bolt of magic. This didn't feel like the sort of enemy to go down in one hit, so evasion might be required. She raised her voice. "All nearby guards, attack! Sound the alarm bells, and be ready to order an evacuation!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Responded the nearest guard, dutifully taking up a lance and running in... alone. A blast of some kind of sickly hellfire turned him to dust in a second, as he didn't even attempt to mitigate the damage.

'Oh, they're not even using a formation. Wonderful.' Orphea rolled her eyes. 'Seems I have to do the babysitting, as normal.' She prepared to hurl her bolt of Dead Magic, before it fizzled in her hands. 'Grandfather?! What are you-'

'Think, Orphea. If you try and fight that, the fight will destroy the village. And you'd be giving it a lot of time to call in reinforcements... as well as showing yourself for The Raven Lord to try and send more attacks. We should try and lead it away from here, and lose it in the wilderness.'

'...' Orphea closed her hand. 'You're right. But I'm more than a little irritated that this thing thinks it can attack one of my villages.' She put a foot forwards, getting into posture, and started to walk forwards. "You! You've attacked an innocent settlement, and I will show you what we do to raiders here.' She made a show of flaring up with power, stepping into the air to gain height and an intimidation factor.

A blast of hellfire seared the air she'd been floating in, but like a mirage Orphea was over to one side.

"Tsk, can't even hit a thirteen year old? Try again." She inwardly prepared her next dash spell. A plain, short dash could do you wonders. Although she did wish it had an offensive component- wearing this thing down would be ideal.

The floor erupted with cursed energy, quickly closing in on Orphea. She scooted back, and gave her best condescending smile. "Oh, come on. I've seen-" She had to dash back again, as the area around her was burned. 'Oh, he's taking that bait. He's taking it hook, line and sinker.'

'It is really a he? It seems to be some kind of golem...'

'Grandfather, is now the time to have a wandering mind?'

Orphea began a steady retreat back into the forest, coming around the side of the village. She managed her fifteenth perfect dodge, the imitation of Gul'dan seething with rage as it recklessly threw spells at her, burning itself out in the brash assault. She waved a hand, and ducked to the floor before pirouetting back up, flinging a few bolts of magic.

The avatar of darkness let them bounce off. One hit the head, one the casting arm, one the core- but none did anything.

'Damn! Looks like it's good at defending itself... I need a strategy.'

'Your magic isn't going to scratch it as is, Orphea.' Osiris said gravely. 'Perhaps with time we could devise something capable of penetrating its' defences, but for now... we will let it wear itself out, and then escape. The village should have ample time to get away.'

'...Very well.' Orphea kept kiting backwards, careful to avoid wasting any more mana on attacks.

It all seemed to be going well, for another ten seconds. She prided herself on her dancing skill, which translated to ranged evasion fairly well. However, the problem was completely independent of Orphea. A red light seemed to have appeared on the dark horizon, and Orphea could see it coming closer rapidly. She could feel herself going into denial almost physically, but there was no denying what she was seeing.

A glowing red construct of that same smooth grey stone rushed down the path as if gliding on air, straight for the village.

"No..." Orphea whispered, useless as it was.

There was another blast, and unlike the current one... she realised she had no way of drawing this one off the town. It was going to be a complete disaster. A night whispered about to scare children for ages to come.

"NO!"

Another shot of green flame came too close, and Orphea's vision was momentarily smothered by the blast washing over her, rapidly sapping her defensive magics and even burning her a little.

"Father, what... HAVE YOU DONE?!" She screamed, as her heart ripped in two.

It was hard to describe what happened next from her perspective. But Dark Nexus Gul'dan saw the target's eyes turn a pure blood red, as she held a hand up high and then some kind of purple energy solidified into a long, whiplike tendril coated in spikes, which came crashing down, and even with his awesome magic, he felt as though he'd been struck by pure anguish, taking a step back in time for her to swing the whip around from the side and totally bowl him over, before he willed himself to warp back a short distance, to safety.

Orphea dropped to the floor, breathing hard and crying freely, as much as she fought to contain it. "The village... Grandfather, we have to save..."

'...We must run, Orphea. You're already hurt, and even if you successfully defend them, you'll be trapped with no hope of escape. We need to warn people.'

Orphea looked at the town walls desperately, as regular orange flames began to lick up the towers. And ran into the night, both sobbing and simmering with rage.


	6. Chapter 3: Ancestral Strength

She didn't know how long she ran for. She was physically fit, but her legs burned and her lungs felt like they were about to collapse. She didn't know if fear, rage, hate or outright shock was providing the energy for her frantic sprint through the wilderness, but eventually, she knew she simply couldn't take another step.

She collapsed against a tree, panting. The moon overhead was nearly setting. She didn't know if she wanted to throw up or faint, and she didn't know if she wanted to do that because of the running or because of the fact she'd left that town to it's fate.

'You made the correct choice.'

Orphea blinked, listening to the disembodied voice.

'Abandoning them was necessary, for the sake of everyone else. But it would have been all too easy to be consumed by the need to be a hero, to save everyone... and if you had tried, you would have saved nobody. You made a hard choice, Orphea. But take solace in knowing that you chose well.'

'...' Orphea sat in foetal position at the base of the tree, looking out into the woods. Could those monsters make it out here in the time she'd spent running? If they did... could she escape them?

'Do not worry. You managed to wound your pursuer with your last attack, and the other I do not sense anywhere near here. You should be safe for a while.'

'I... my father... how could he do this? He... no, both of us... we've been making hard decisions, sacrificing things for the good of Ravencourt for as long as I can remember. I've _killed_ people for him. And now he just... throws it all away?!'

'...The Dark Nexus is a terrible thing. I imagine it played no small part in your-'

"I'm talking about him unleashing it." Orphea whispered. "He... he knew what would happen. And now everyone is paying the price." Sadness fought rage inside her, as she struggled to lock both down under a cool, collected lie.

'Then we will have to set things right. I doubt you can sleep for now, but sit and rest a few hours. We can plan our next move in detail.'

Orphea nodded, somehow feeling both burnt-out and filled with emotions more intensely than she'd ever thought possible. She let go of her legs and sat there like a ragdoll for an hour, two hours, maybe more. Dawn began to break. She saw a few rabbits in the distance. A couple of different birds in the trees, although only one raven, and it wasn't her father, to her relief. She could have sworn she'd even heard a wolf howl at one point, but since they weren't native to this area, it had to be someone's dog... or a worgen was around. Orphea wondered if it would be inappropriate to rope someone from a foreign universe into her problems. Then remembered her plan, and dismissed that worry.

She took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm ready to discuss the next step. And the plan in general." She got up, and winced as her legs flared up in agony, taking a shaky step as her stomach also reminded her that she was never one to eat much.

Without her will, she floated a little off the floor. 'Let me. My magic is the reason I was preserved, after all.'

Orphea floated along, through the woods. '...My head hurts. But okay. The next step of the plan is to go and buy some supplies for crossing Alterac Pass. And sleep.'

'Alterac Pass... the name doesn't ring a bell.'

'Its' spatial echo was only added recently, about four years ago, maybe five. It's a cold mountain range where in its original world a catastrophic battle was staged between orcs and dwarves, and a few humans backing up the dwarves. It's currently a natural divide between Ravencourt and King's Crest. I could go around it, through the Haunted Mines, but that would take too long, and my father controls that land with the Spider Warden's iron grip.' Orphea floated out from the sparse forest, into open plains of deep-green grass that stretched out for ages, dotted with a few extra trees or fences or rocks.

'Ah, so you plan to petition King's Crest for aid. How are our relations these days?'

'Cordial but distant. Trade has been choked by Alterac, and the fact it's a demilitarised zone. Unless you're willing to negotiate safe passage with orcs that despise humans and don't want their home invaded, it's no place for a merchant. Still, the realm's echo ought to fade in another few hundred years, so we've maintained contact. They know who I am.'

'Hmm... I just hope they will be convinced by your argument, if we must ask them to cross the Pass.'

'I'm sure they have records. They'll understand the severity.' Orphea put a hand over her eyes, as the sun began to shine through. She'd always been light-sensitive, but after a night like that... even the weak rays of light that made it to her stoked her headache.

'I can't see a better idea. But it would be wise to think about how we'll deal with our own armies. Surely it would be more effective to try and disable them or convince them to defect than attack head on?'

'Of course. But unfortunately, it isn't likely I can do either unless my father completely alienates them.'

'Right... then for now, we should proceed to the next settlement, and continue with your plans. We shouldn't stay long, in case you draw the ire of the Dark Nexus upon innocents.'

'...You know, it really hurts to leave them unprotected. We spent so long building them up...'

'Worry not, Orphea. People may be stupid at times, but they do tend to find a way to survive things they shouldn't.'

* * *

Orphea's eyes drooped. The town on the edge of the realm had been in her sights for a while now, and she could barely process it. She was slowly lowered closer to the ground as she hovered along, and mustered up the energy to land on her feet and stumble forwards. They still hurt, but she could at least use them. "Urgh... hope the guards aren't paying enough attention..."

She took a deep breath and stood straight. Breaking in seemed like a very attractive option in the face of picking a fight in this state. Breaking in was also something she'd helped the town protect itself against in her few years as her father's right-hand.

'Just wear a simple disguise over your face and hair. The land has all too many oddities from across the dimensions. I imagine you could just use whatever dirty sheet you find lying around as a mask and walk right in.' Osiris suggested.

'I wish I could have more faith... but I won't complain.'

Orphea looked around blearily, for anything that could cover up her dark finery. The land was clean and clear, for as far as she could see. Nothing in sight that she could use as a disguise...

'Just use the cloth covering me, and warp me into the city.'

Orphea blinked. 'You really want me to leave a magical artefact charged with enough power to oppose even my Father lying around in the gutters? Really?' She glanced around, and huffed. 'Fine. Just lock yourself, and DON'T mess this up.'

'That's quite a tone to take with me, young lady.'

'Don't you call me that, I'm more mature than you.' She shook her head, trying to wish away the tiredness. 'Never mind, let's do this.' She slung the coffin off her back, and her legs trembled under their own weight as Orphea was left with just her own depleted magic.

'Hah. Carried.' Osiris' voice had an unknowable humour to it, as Orphea unwrapped the sarcophagus, and covered herself in a makeshift cloak.

"I don't have enough mana for a warp spell... nor the time to prepare one, especially for long-distance." Orphea said to the box, crouching over. "Honestly, warp magic in general is difficult and unreliable. Are you sure you're not going to send yourself into a wall?"

'Please, you're treating me like some kind of idiot. I'll have you know I'm just a fool.'

The box vanished in the blink of an eye, leaving Orphea alone in the field, sun overhead. She knew most people her age would feel a bit scared at having to go alone for a while, but she just relished the chance to be alone for a while. Just like her original plan.

It was so much easier to be able to just rely on yourself, and so much nicer to have privacy...

Although she swiftly brought herself down when she remembered Osiris was the sole reason she'd made it this far so quickly, and the only reason she survived yesterday.

Speaking of yesterday, that strange whip attack she used. She'd have to remember to bring that up later, and see if it could be reproduced. But for now, she hobbled towards the city. It was just a short walk to reach the outer perimeter, a modest wall to keep out both bandit and beast. Guards stood by the gate, as they should, and Orphea was both disappointed and relieved that they paid no attention to the tired child limping past.

The inside of this border town was a busy place, streets leading to and fro with buildings of strange construction, based in magic and traditional styles and bolstered with technology and futuristic approaches. It came together strangely well, all in all. The markets she could see down the road would no doubt be selling things as old as wheat and as modern as ice cream. She wondered why wheat sprang to mind. Mushrooms were a more effective food source when you had little light.

She refocused. Now wasn't the time to bask in the places her family had fostered. It was the time to pursue her mission to protect them. And that meant getting some sleep and supplies.

She looked around for a pawn shop, silently thankful that her formal wear had included jewellery. You could pawn anything, of course, but nothing else was so valuable and easy to transport. She could see a blacksmith, an arcanist, a bakery, a coffee shop... all manner of houses and a seemingly-reputable inn...

It took a walk to the centre of the town to find the pawn shop. A building purchased like all the rest, not clashing against the town's aesthetic and thankfully away from the backstreets where rogues prowled. A sign out the front proudly read that it was owned by one Mr Harrison, with a little painted quote below cheerfully saying that they never knew what would walk through the door next.

It gave Orphea pause for a moment, wondering how it got here. Things, or rather advanced space-time afterimages were drawn into the Nexus when they made a major impact on their world, one that left behind a spatial echo. These afterimages existed separately from the originals, and would fade with time, but were immortal until they faded. It was part of what made any true dimensional migrants so special- they lived and died normally, capable of growing old- instead of forever acting as a snapshot of a past self. Regardless, how did the owner of a pawn shop manage to make a major impact..? They must have been from Earth. Earth people tended to come over thanks to that 'internet' of theirs, and memes.

She walked in, to see a spacious store, with all manner of trinkets and clothing arranged around the room, prices attached. A portly man in a baseball cap sat behind the counter. "Hey, welcome to my shop. Can I help you, miss?"

Orphea slipped a hand under the makeshift cloak, into her pocket. "I need to pawn off some things. And I'm also looking for a Bag of Holding, if you have one."

"Okay, Nexus stuff! Magic items are just on the left, although a regular old backpack might be cheaper." The owner smiled, leaning on the counter. "What would like to pawn?"

She delicately grasped a thin chain, and pulled out a necklace. At the centre, a flawless blood-red ruby was clasped in gold. "This, first of all. I can provide an account of where it's been and what it is, but since you have no reason to trust that... just notice that the gemstone is of high quality."

"Wow, that's a nice piece. You might have been told to take it to a gold dealer."

"Heh. I think we both know that you don't go to a gold dealer without a verified history of the item and high social standing. They'd offer me two copper pieces and a loaf of bread." Orphea grinned knowingly, playing off her knowledge of the shady business as a street thing.

The owner chuckled behind his beard. "Let me sort you out with some coins and a receipt, miss. You go find any items you want."

The display for magical items was a curious one. Ravencourt didn't exactly have Health and Safety laws, but she still assumed such a good shop would keep the items in separate cases. An arrangement of Azeroth wands was set out on one part of the table. Useful weapons, but with finite charges. Two staves mages might use were leaning against the wall as well, before you got to a few enchanted lockets, a box full of unattuned Hearthstones, some clothing... but no Bags of Holding. A shame, but not an unexpected one. Such useful things would be snapped up within minutes of arrival.

"You find one?"

"No, sir." Orphea turned, and Mr. Harrison passed her a small bag. A quick unlacing of the cord around the top revealed a handful of golden coins. "...My thanks. This should be enough for what I need." She couldn't hold back a yawn.

"Have a good afternoon now, y'hear?"

Ten hours of sleep sounded like a perfect afternoon. Orphea kept her makeshift cloak wrapped tightly around her as she marched out of the shop and into the streets. Osiris didn't even cross her mind as she struggled to overcome the tiredness and general headache of not having slept in over thirty hours. She didn't even need to act to look like a dishevelled human that lived on the streets, the closest hint to her true nature being the bump of her tiara under the hood of her coverings. As she finally made it to the inn, general condition sapping away her patience, she reached up to her hairline and shoved the hood back, before folding the cloak neatly. Her normal outfit reamined hidden, as useful as it may have been.

She blearily booked a room, choosing to overlook the strange looks the innkeeper gave her. If they recognised the tiara... well, that wasn't really on her mind. She was fighting to avoid just plonking her head down on the desk and blacking out. She took the key, slogged her way up the stairs, into the room, threw off the cloak and fell face-first onto the thin bed.

The mattress was so hard that that almost hurt. She closed her eyes and was precisely half a second away from sleep when a voice popped into her head.

'Missed me, granddaughter?'

Her eyes snapped open. 'Osiris, I swear that if this isn't important, I'm going to go to sleep while you're talking.' She looked around. There was a coffin lying almost smugly in the corner. For a fancy wooden box, it was amazingly expressive.

'I've been studying that unusual attack you used earlier, against that Dark Nexus entity. I think I could teach you how to reproduce it, if you wish.'

Orphea forced herself to sit up, inwardly screaming that the chance to sleep was _right now. _'Okay. Let us begin.' She rolled off the bed, landing light on her feet, stretched, and stood to attention.

'...I didn't mean right now.'

She scowled. 'Well I'm up now. Father made sure I was always to learn something at first opportunity.' Her patience had worn thin long ago, as she crossed her arms.

'Very well... That attack was a manifestation of your emotions, made real through Dead Magic. You know much of the theory already, so just know that by channeling and controlling your emotions to bring whatever you were feeling to the top, you can form your Dead Magic into... whatever that was.'

Orphea looked down. What emotion had she been feeling? Betrayal? Shock? Confusion? Anger? ...Pain? She held out a hand, and made a wobbling ball of magic. Her focus felt dented, and she cursed that bed for looking so damn tempting. Memories went through her mind, of seeing buildings burn, of knowing people had died... She kept a firm grip on her heart, and allowed some emotions to bleed through her dispassionate mask.

Anguish.

A tendril covered in spikes became real, sprouting out of her hand. It was only by a flash of panic that she prevented it piercing the roof. It vanished as quickly as it came, her reserves of magic too depleted to fuel the spell for a long time. She noted it felt weightless to her, even if it had most certainly not behaved as a weightless object when it struck her foe.

"Easy enough." She said, dropping her hand. "How many repetitions, grandfather?"

'...Repetitions? That was a perfectly good cast, on your first attempt.'

'Repeating your spells is critical to being able to cast quickly and precisely if you're in danger. I've blown up hundreds of target dummies just to master using a simple bolt of magic.'

'Well, I can't stop you practicing. What with lacking physical form, and all that.' The coffin seemed to shimmer. 'Personally, I want to know if you can harness your other emotions. My own Dead Magic never behaved this way, you know. Could this be the emergence of a new trait in our bloodline?'

'It's...' Orphea hesitated, even inside her head. 'I probably inherited whatever lets me do this from... my mother. She came from an outstanding line of mages.'

'Interesting... tell me about her, that I may deduce more information.'

'I don't know much about her. She... my father used political power to marry her, all but forced her to. All to create...' Orphea sat down on the bed. 'Some stupid pedigree magic user. Suppose I oughtn't complain, even if it was a foul thing to do.' She looked up at the ceiling. The practice could wait until she was capable of focusing herself. 'She fled when I was one. Father wouldn't let anyone speak of her after that.'

'Orphea...' The voice in her mind took a much more concerned tone. 'Are you okay with that?'

'I don't want your pity, grandfather. She's not someone I have any feelings towards, positive or negative. Just a stranger I'm related to...' Orphea shut her eyes, a tired attempt at keeping them wet enough not to be irritated. And that was all the time it took to fall asleep.

* * *

BOOOOM.

There was an explosion, shaking the inn. The coffin in the corner lit up with purplish energy, levitating off the floor. 'Orphea.'

She was still lying there, on her back. Alive, judging by the rise and fall of her chest. But also in very imminent danger of death if she didn't wake up. She stirred.

'Orphea, wake up.'

She stirred, and opened her eyes. "Mmph..?" There was another explosion, slightly smaller but still enough to make a few spots of dust fall from the rafters. That one managed to wake her up. She jumped off the bed, landing on her feet, and looked around wildly, before rapidly running her hands through her hair to straighten it out. In combination with her self-cleaning outfit, she looked good as new. Osiris wished he had eyes to roll at the vanity.

'We are under attack, and you're fixing your hair?'

"Oh, shut up! I need to always be presentable and- wait, we're under attack?!" Orphea pointed a finger at the cloth on the floor, and willed it to rise up. She pointed another finger at the sarcophagus, and moved it into the sheeting, wrapping it up again. "Quick. With me! I can't let this town be destroyed too!" She slung the harness over her shoulder, and glanced at the door before kicking the window open, and jumping out. She floated up on her jump, landing on the next rooftop over to survey the area.

The outer walls were burning. Buildings were coming down. The guards were in a formation, advancing on that same Dark Nexus being from before... the one that was awash with red light. And the one she'd personally seen off was here too, standing back. Orphea could identify the point of breaching, and see that the damage was thus far contained, fires given little chance to spread and the guards giving everything they could to prevent the Dark Nexus beings running loose. But it was a losing battle. The red one was sweeping he guards aside with little trouble, and seemed to take great pleasure in finding painful ways to end them. The green occasionally sent waves of hellfire or cursed energy forwards, dealing immense damage to the formations of guards.

"...We have to intervene. Father must know I'm here if neither branched off to other towns. And if I flee beyond the border afterwards, then it doesn't matter if they chase me. They won't come across any of my people."

'Very well. But don't show me. The longer we can conceal my absence from The Raven Lord, the better. Do you think you can use the spell I devised?'

'I'm not confident. But I will make them think I am.'

'I shall guide your strikes. Stay nimble, don't get hit if possible. Otherwise... I believe you should give the order to evacute the town. More Dark Nexus beings are sure to follow these. Are you ready?'

"For the Nexus!" Orphea jumped off the roof, magic turning the jump into a large, poised arc. She landed in front of the reatreating batch of guards, balanced light and delicate on her toes. She stared down the two enemies.

"Guards, I may officially be a traitor. But heed my orders, and evacuate the town! The Raven Lord has lost his sanity, and sends these vile creatures to destroy us all!"

She didn't listen to the response, as a rush of telekinetic force behind her nearly pulled her straight into the blades of DNAlarak. With a short skip she managed to evade the surging flash of light that blackened the floor below, and raised a hand up high. It took a split second of focus, but Orphea could call up anguish easily, seeing the wounded guards, burning city, and remembering the others. She slammed down the pillar of eldritch energy not a moment too soon; the Dark Nexus foes were wickedly fast.

With a neat pirouette, she repositioned herself away, looking out to see if she'd dealt notable damage. The mockery of Alarak was seething with rage as it charged her, but didn't seem too damaged. She balled up her regrets at the town, and lashed out with an arm, striking it cleanly across the front, before launching herself back further. Regardless of the emotional mess she held inside, outside she endeavoured to appear calm, collected, and a little sarcastic. "Come on, I can't wait around all day."

"Men, get in there and back her up! Have you sounded the alarms? I don't hear no alarms!" Yelled a guard, as he pulled a sword and charged forwards. Orphea's work seemed to be an inspiration...

But he stood no chance, cut down before getting even close to DNAlarak. The rest of them hesitated.

Osiris regarded the corpse as it was kicked away, and a building torched. 'Fool... Just make them run, deal with these two, and then we'd best flee ourselves.'

'I know, I know.'

Orphea prepared another one of her lashes, and stepped in to fight. One small girl against two supernatural killing machines.

Things got hectic. She went in and slipped past a red blade brought down heavily, struck out and jumped back just in time to evade a wave of hellfire, then leapt up high and pelted a few bolts of energy at DNGul'dan to distract him long enough for Orphea to shout again. "Evacuate! NOW!"

"But what about you, Lady Orphea?!" Called one of them.

"I can't oppose my father alone. I'm going to journey to King's Crest and bring their army. Until then, I need you all to spread the word, and keep everyone safe!" She couldn't talk further, as a stream of lightning jumped between her and DNAlarak. It wasn't exceptionally damaging, but it hurt a lot, and she dropped to the floor before springing forwards, stretching up and slamming down another one of her tendrils of anguish.

DNAlarak stumbled, but DNGul'dan picked up the slack. Orphea suddenly found herself on the defensive, weaving away, striking back where she could... until she realised she didn't have more ground to give, and went on a desperate offensive. She sidestepped the first blast. She leapt away from the surge of cursed power, and made to slam down her attack- it connected. DNGul'dan actually backed off, leaving Orphea huffing.

'...We need an escape route. Grandfather, can you see one?'

'No. Strike them both enough to weaken them, and just flee. If they pursure, we'll have enough time to find an advantageous position.'

Orphea evaluated the enemy once more, and ran in. She mapped out her movements, the likely pattern the foes would move in, prepared her attack...

A wave of force came from behind, washing out her mind in panic. She went shooting into the space between the two crystal beings, barely able to evade a savage jab that could easily have torn apart her defences, and was slashed on the follow-up attack, before falling to the floor as some kind of ability sapped away her strength, DNGul'dan standing firmer.

She looked up, as DNAlarak stepped closer, deactivating one blade and bringing the tip of a rocky gauntlet underneath her chin. "The weak... Perish... Must perish... Heh..." It pressed the blade into Orphea's neck, threatening to activate it.

Fury sparked. Weak. Orphea knew she wasn't weak. But to give her all, and be mocked? To struggle all her life, and see what she'd built crumble as she watched helplessly?

"I will not die so soon, you piece of rock!"

Filled with rage, she jumped up from the floor. The blade ignited the moment she moved, and she felt something score the front of her outfit with horrible burning pain, but was just too angry to care. She threw her hands forwards and down like she was slamming a car bonnet shut, and a wave of purple matter coalesced into jaws, snapping closed in front of her. They nearly crushed DNAlarak completely, and it stumbled away in fear, some parts of it's rocky body reduced to dust. Orphea felt something still roiling inside her and threw out one last bolt of magic as a parting gift while she ran, noting with some satisfaction that it was enough to deter DNGul'dan from chasing her.

Then, she ran. She ran through the village, then floated, then flew out, praying that she'd bought enough time...

And fearing that she would bleed out before the next day.


	7. Chapter 4: Allegrissimo

Light was breaking through the sky again. Orphea felt tired, and lightheaded. She'd left the town far behind, with nothing but orders to run. There would be people who didn't make it out. There would be people that could have lived if she'd fought longer, or been a more powerful mage.

But right now, she was just one girl, with little more than a small sum of coins, some self-mending clothing, and a fancy coffin.

She collapsed to the roadside, looking back towards the village, and unlaced her overcoat. It had mended itself, but the flesh beneath wasn't so lucky. The cut seemed to have been instantly cauterised by whatever kind of blade the Dark Nexus creature had wielded. She prodded it, and was once again confirmed that it was the most painful sensation she'd ever experienced, as she couldn't hold back tears.

'Please don't let this cripple me. Please. Just one bit of good luck.' She didn't have any medicines, or healing magics. It was down to good old cells and scars to fix this.

Osiris came to the same conclusion as most doctors. 'You're extremely lucky that the weapon was designed to cause pain, because otherwise you'd be long dead. And it honestly ought to confine you to bed for a few weeks, at minimum.'

'I have to push on, grandfather.' Orphea made to move, and the coffin actually forced her to stay sitting down on the floor.

'You could very easily kill yourself. If that reopens, then you're done for.' Osiris warned.

"Then what am I to do?! If I don't do this as fast as I possibly can, then Ravencourt will pay the price!" She said out loud, deciding there was nobody around to hear her. The leaves of the trees were always silently listening, but would never repeat the ramblings of an injured bird.

'Orphea. What are your plans?' Osiris told her gently, as the box kept her glued to the ground.

A gentle morning breeze blew. Leaves rustled in the trees. It would be all too easy to pretend she were just resting on a nice walk, that her home wasn't falling apart... but the moment that notion crossed her mind, she threw it out in disgust. Sitting around with your head in the sand was a fine way to waste time in the face of a threat.

"I'm going to cross Alterac, and petition King's crest for aid. I don't care what I have to give them for that aid, even if it's my life- All I want is for my realm to be safe."

'And if you die before reaching King's Crest?'

"...But if I'm too slow..." Countered Orphea, speaking physically hurting more than she expected.

'Yes, it is a valid concern. I will lift you up and carry you there as fast as I can... but Orphea, I must stress to you... be _careful._'

She nodded, looking out into the woods. Lovely healthy trees, with shady leaves that held a mystery to them. The perfect place to vanish into, never to be seen again for the sake of some wild animal or opportunistic bandit.

"Hey... I'm pretty thirsty. A bit hungry too, but... do you think I'll die if I drink river water? I've yet to hear anything good about it, but I'm desperate."

'Oh, that's right. You do need to drink if you're alive, I forgot. How funny, I could swear I lived on water for a while!'

"Let's just move." Orphea kept the arm closer to her cut limp, and slowly got to her feet, before the sarcophagus lifted her from the floor, her body becoming weightless. "As fast as we can go, to the border. The last thing I want is a fight right now."

She started to float forwards. It was a fair distance to the border, and making the journey on foot would only amplify it. Flying there by Dead Family Express would hopefully be a bit easier.

She took in the forest as it started to speed by, mulling over her thoughts and trying to look out for incoming danger... but none seemed to approach.

She grew hungrier as time passed, but the dehydration was what really exerted a toll on her. She really wished that she could stop running into things that caused headaches, like excessive stress, lack of sleep, or now lack of water. Although she was aware that lack of water would probably kill her faster than the other two. It was sorely tempting to start looking through the brush for some kind of juicy berry or fruit, but she knew full well that eating random berries was just about the easiest way to die in the wilderness. Sure, some species could eat those. But humans might not be one of those species.

Osiris asked a question, as time went by. 'Orphea, I notice you... don't really have a strong reaction to your situation. Your injury is... well, it's horrific, if I'm honest. And you barely seemed to flinch when you saw people dyng right in front of you. Why?'

'Oh, I guess I'm just a psychopath.'

There was a few seconds of silence between her and Osiris.

Orphea huffed. 'I'm just joking, grandfather. I was always trained to deal with all this. Father made sure of it. I'd never have been able to help as much as I did if I wasn't prepared to see the worst of the world.'

'...You're thirteen. What did this training... do?' His tone took on a rather hesitant fear.

'Well, it started with some executions, to get me used to killing. The first few made me vomit, but I can handle taking a life now that I know what I'm doing. And he taught me how to use offensive spells when I was three, and they nearly backfired on me a couple of times-'

That fear turned to a shocked anger. 'Hold on. He had you handling executions from what age, exactly?'

Orphea shrugged. '...Seven? Six maybe?'

You could have heard a gnat's jaw dropping a mile away from Osiris' resounding silence, although Orphea had no trouble reading the pure shock flowing through him.

She nervously put her hands together. 'Hey, I didn't do anything wrong! I only killed convicted criminals!'

'IF I GET THE CHANCE, I WILL MAKE THE CURRENT RAVEN LORD BREAK HIS OWN FINGERS.'

"Yeesh, a little quieter, if you would?" Orphea rubbed her ear, even if the sound was purely inside her mind.

'I don't think you understand how many levels of abusive that qualifies as. I don't even understand how you're alive. I just... what? What?!' Orphea could clearly imagine a wizardly man stamping about, wringing his hands as if begging whoever he was speaking to to start speaking a common tongue.

'He clearly knew what he was doing to some degree, considering I'm not suffering any identifiable traumas and I can cast Dead Magic with my eyes closed. And if not for it, I'd be dead when I had to fight a few hours ago.'

'Yes... I think we actually went over that, when we touched on this before. If you need me, I'll just be stewing in my rage back in this box.' Osiris withdrew his presence, but continued to fly Orphea along the pathway, deeper into the forest.

Orphea just did her best not to die, as she stayed still, and willed what little strength she could muster up to propel them towards their goal faster. That cut was a ticking timer on her life, almost certain to becomone infected or reopen... but she wouldn't give up. She would die trying, at least.


	8. Chapter 5: Backbiter

Orphea coughed. It was perfectly dry. The overhead sun barely reached her, through the cloud cover that now seemed to be dispersing, and the great canopy of leaves overhead. But still, she cursed it for daring to threaten to take away any of her precious water.

She'd never felt such thirst. And over the last twenty four hours, she'd never felt so exposed. She'd never slept rough before, and had just gone from an inn to behind the side of a tree next to the road. Her grandfather promised to watch over her as she was asleep, but it still couldn't dispel the fear that some unknown insect could just crawl up and bite her, and maybe even poison her.

And the indignity of it all, knowing she'd just sat in the mud and fallen unconscious for seven hours. The only thing worse than the discomfort of having the damp seep through her trousers and the side of her overcoat she'd slept on was the knowledge there was water in that damn mud. She'd managed to positively identify two deadly poisonous plants without any training in herbs, but dozens of others were growing around, all of them becoming increasingly tempting meals. Except one mushroom shaped like a skull. That thing was unnerving enough to make a fantastic garden decoration, but not food.

"No. I'm not going to die if I go another day without eating." She said to herself, as she peeled herself off the horrible floor, wishing the enchanted clothing would take away the damp and dirt a bit faster.

'You will die if you go another day or two without drinking.' Osiris noted helpfully.

"Oh, shut up. You don't think I know?"

'Don't you take that tone with me. I'm the one controlling your flight path, after all.'

'I can take manual control.'

Osiris' voice devolved into mirthless laughter. 'Feel free to! Perhaps you'll be able to fly high enough to take a nice refreshing drink from a cloud.'

"Hmph." Orphea walked over to the path, and managed to lift herself up and away, floating along. It took a little concentration, but didn't exceed what she was currently capable of. The grass was tantalisingly wet with morning dew. 'Oh gods, I'm considering licking the grass.'

Osiris neglected to offer more advice, chuckling with panic now. They went along for a while longer, before he managed to compose himself. 'Ah, but this is serious. If we see a water source, we'll have to take our chances. And don't forget your injury.'

Orphea looked down at the cut. It was scabbed over, the clothing mended. It probably wouldn't get worse, but it hurt even more than yesterday. She could barely flex herself, and combat? Out of the question.

Stupid human body, taking damage. Ghosts had it so easy...

Orphea managed to fly along for a while longer, but the small amount of focus it required to levitate a foot or two away from the floor gradually sapped her weakened psyche. She found herself drifting off course, as hard as she tried not to. She felt strained enough that she was sure her brian was going to just snap in half.

'I could take over, you know?'

'...Best I get the practice in.' Orphea responded, dropping to the floor, and walking along for a second, thumping headache returning. She slapped the side of her head, trying to convince it to stop hurting her for no reason. "Ugh, can't I just not have a headache for a few days?" She muttered out loud, coughing again. She rubbed dry fingers against each other, and stumbled.

'Er... I think you're literally dying of dehydration. It's been about three and a half days since we left the tower, and I haven't seen you eat or drink a thing.' Osiris pointed out.

Orphea willed herself to hover again, and flew another fifteen metres before her strength failed, and she dropped to the pathway. Everything hurt. Her head, the cut on her side, her stomach, her throat, her legs, and even the arm she'd slept on. "..." Orphea forced herself onto her knees, and crouched there. "So... this is how it ends? Aren't I pathetic..."

'Orphea! Stay awake! I'll take over now, we must find water.'

She shook her head. "It's no good... I... I'll just have to go as far as I can." She blinked. It was out of the corner of her eye, but there was something that had moved. Too fast to be a plant, and she could have sworn there was some blue or red... colours you didn't see on most animals. 'Movement, in the trees.' She thought, getting onto one knee. "Hello there! I need help!" She called, as loudly as she could muster.

A rustle. A gentle breeze blew, one that felt almost refreshing, and Orphea's hopes rose.

"I'm over here, on the path!" She managed to adjust herself, sitting crosslegged, hunched over. Something flashed between the trees again, and she saw something that was distinctively... not clothing. Unless it was the world's most impractical cape, laquered to stick out to the side dramatically. In the middle of a forest. Then it came into view properly, seeming to leap over from an impossible distance, landing right in front of her with a flap of wings.

It was some kind of flying lizard, about the size of a grown human. Pale green hide on top, a cream underbelly, and two massive shining wings in multiple colours. And while she didn't see it for long before she closed her eyes and braced for impact, a few red frills. The kind of thing that would be either an insanely exotic pet or very nice to look at with a sturdy glass pane in the way. Conversely, not something you would want to jump more than a dozen metres towards you when you're on the verge of fainting anyway.

Orphea's thoughts went through a very rapid train. 'What in the Nexus is that- It's coming this way! It's a lizard, oh gods it's huge, I'm going to get bitten and probably die- AAAAaargh it's landed on my lap getitoff Grandfather hel-'

'Okay, that's enough.'

As Orphea recoiled from the landing creature and held in her scream, a small purple thing floated out of the coffin and slipped through the cloth, a little floating monster that amounted to a mouth suspended in the air, ninety percent teeth. It moved in front of her defensively.

The winged lizard seemed to think that was the most interesting thing s/he'd ever seen, leaning in very close to the angry floating mouth, seemingly impervious to the knowledge the human that was smaller than her was frozen up in fear. "Ooh! What is that?"

That was a very... understandable bit of speech. Orphea blinked. "...You can talk?"

"I can talk!" The reptile ducked under the mouth monster, looking up at Orphea. "Hello, human! Why are you here?"

"I... um, why do you need to know?! And can you get out of my lap?" She leaned further away.

"Well, you have not got nature magic. So... Brightwing could eat you, if you are going to do bad thing to forest." It shuffled back a bit, sitting like a dog.

Orphea took a deep breath, and stopped leaning away. "I'm... running away from my father. It's complicated. I just mean to pass through your forest, and..." She wobbled. "I need water. I'm begging you."

"There is not a river here... Oh! You are... um, word is..." It stuck it's tongue out. "Drink?"

"I do need something to drink, yes. Food too, but... thirst is what's killing me." Orphea said, composure holding together now that she had her personal space back.

"Hmm..."

"Please. I'll do anything. I can't let myself die here, or my home will be destroyed."

The lizard tilted its' head. "Brightwing always have to worry about home get destroyed, because of bad humans that are called adventurers. Hmm... I think that I would _liiike _to have easy food, small human." It leaned closer. "Brightwing like meat as much as fruit..."

Osiris' floating mouth moved in and bared teeth, although Orphea didn't know how effective it would be at deterring something this size.

"Buuut..." It ducked under the mouth monster again, and very sweetly folded it's forepaws on the ground, lying its' head on them and looking up. "I am lonely."

"Might be because you eat people?" Orphea observed.

"...If you will be a new friend, Brightwing will help you!" It offered, getting dangerously close to biting range of Orphea's face.

It wasn't a hard decision to make. "Alright. I am Orphea, heiress to Ravencourt, she who will inherit the singularity and ability to rule, and the guardian of the sacred duty of ensuring the Dark Nexus is never opened- well, maybe not that last part. Father opened it, which is why I'm running." She offered a hand. "Who are you? And... are you a boy or a girl?"

"I am Brightwing! I am..." She shook her wings a bit, then licked Orphea's outstretched hand. "Learning human words. No idea what boy and girl are, haha... Brightwing... oldest faerie dragon in Nexus, and... have yellow eyes... and... female?" She said slowly, before blinking with enthusiasm. "Words right?!"

"Very good, yes." Orphea managed an awkward smile. "I... don't mean to be rude, but I need to drink something in the next ten minutes or I'm going to keel over and die."

"Brightwing get you fruit! Know really juicy ones!" With a scramble, she turned and flew up into the treetops, leaving Orphea sitting there.

She released a breath she didn't know she was holding, and brushed herself off. Everything seemed calm and quiet again, but she couldn't ignore her punding heart and the sense she'd just tangled with death. "That could have gone worse." She noted calmly, leaning back on the coffin.

'Quite a stroke of luck though, wouldn't you say? And you even made a friend.'

"Oh no, I hope I haven't just sealed some kind of pact..." Orphea watched the trees blow in the breeze, pleasantly noting her headache had been suppressed by the little touch of adrenaline. "New trick with the physical avatar, I notice."

'I couldn't just let you face off against a wild animal alone now, could I?'

"...Thanks. Well, now I guess I just try not to die waiting for her to get back."

Orphea sat serenely, hanging onto consciousness limply, doing all she could to ward away the returning headache. It returned, to her groaning protest. After that, she closed her eyes and lay on the hard dirt path. Even Alterac Pass seemed to be so far away, an almost intangible goal. And when she made it there... could she cross?

'Well, you're already on the run. And you can't really go back, either.'

'Shush, Grandfather. I'm trying to be an angsty teen here.'

Another few minutes passed, before Orphea felt a ripple in the magic around her, and sat up. There was a ringing in her ears like a musical chime, getting louder...

With a pop and a sparkle the air in front of her was suddenly filled with a surge of magic, before Brightwing reappeared, holding all kinds of things in her claws. "I am back, friend!" she dropped all the items on the floor between them, as Orphea sat up. Most of it was fruit. A branch with a few apples, a few pears, and a small pumpkin. Aside from that, there was a dead rabbit, that seemed to still be bleeding... and a _water canteen_.

Orphea snatched the bottle up. "Oh, sweet relief." She unscrewed the metal lid, seeing a rubber seal around the rim. So, not a magic item... but it was full and not noticeably poisoned, so she was going to drink it. She downed half of the water immediately, before sighing, feeling herself revitalise. "...Thanks. Where did you get this?"

"Oh, dead adventurer had it! Lot of them do, but Brightwing destroy with magic, keep forest clean."

Orphea blinked, and looked at the bottle in her hand. "Er... how long have they been dead?"

"No idea!" Brightwing replied cheerfully. "Brightwing only find them after a bear smash their head."

"I hope this is safe to drink... poor traveller." Orphea put the canteen down, and went for one of the pears. She chose the one that seemed to have been scratched when it was picked, deciding the rest could be kept for a few days. She'd never gotten the chance to buy any supplies before embarking on her trek.

The pear was juicy, but at the same time it was hard and bitter. If she'd bought it from a stall, she'd have been simultaneously disappointed and disgusted. If it had been served in her home, she'd have found the servant responsible and had them warned or punished. Right now? She ripped into that unripe pear and enjoyed it.

After just two of the apples, Orphea realised she was completely full. "Thanks again... Hopefully I'll feel fine in an hour." She gathered up the remaining fruits, and safely tucked the water canteen into a pocket inside her overcoat. "Now, I need to get moving for Alterac."

"Oh, friend forgot this!" Brightwing picked up the rabbit in her mouth.

"Er... why don't you have that? I can't eat raw meat, and I don't want to start a fire in your forest." Orphea deflected awkwardly. But whatever her deflection, Brightwing seemed to have no problem swallowing it whole without any further argument. "Well then, I can't lose any time, so off I go. Thanks for the help... see you..."

"I will come and help you, friend! Until the edge of the forest." She jumped up, and started hovering in the air, wingbeats blowing all over Orphea, to her mild annoyance.

"Alright, to the edge of the forest..." Orphea got up, and gently floated away from the ground, before starting to pick up speed. "How unlikely, both of us don't travel on foot, even if we have feet."

They both started to fly along the pathway. "Brightwing crawl sometimes! Have to sneak up on things."

"Right, of course." Orphea answered politely. "If I could ask... you've been here in the Nexus for a while, it seems."

"Brightwing wake up here one day after helping protect home! Adventurers are bad, but demons are very super bad."

"At least we can agree on that..." Orphea muttered. "So what do you think of as an adventurer?" She looked at the forest, and inwardly noted that her headache had finally cleared. Ten hours of sleep and she'd be like new.

"Go around killing things, but not eat them. Have swords. Break things, leave broken things on floor. They damage home... So Brightwing kill them."

"...Well, they ARE my people... If I make it back alive, I'll have to put up a warning sign. I can't let them get hurt, I have to protect them just like you protect his forest."

"Oh, you are leader human?"

"Well... I will be when I grow up. Normally, I'd find out what was threatening my people and kill it, the way you do. But I can see you've got good intentions, don't you? So I'll just try and make sure nobody damages the forest." Orphea said smoothly, while she internally tried to weigh up whether or not she could win in a fight if she managed to somehow blow things.

"Brightwing just want to protect friends and forest. Very happy if you help!" She said enthusiastically. "...Oh, I have a question for you, human."

"Just call me Orphea, please." Orphea drifted out of the way of a low-hanging branch, occasionally glancing to her temporary companion, but mostly focusing on controlling her flight path. The last thing she wanted was to fly into a tree at speed. Her enchantments would do nothing against that, considering they had to let her touch the floor.

"Brightwing feel you use dark magic. Chaos magic."

Orphea felt a small chill go through her, just a sliver of ice. One that could easily lead up to her teammate turning on her. "...I do. Is that something you don't like?"

"I do not mind, if you do not use it to damage forest. You are holding it inside you." Brightwing made a neat little aerial roll to the side, coming closer to Orphea. "But there is something wrong with the magic around this place... it is like yours, but... bad."

"That must be my father." Orphea murmured. "When he used the Dark Nexus, it ate away at his mind until he was insane enough to fully unleash it. He must be completely mad now, and letting out tremendous quantities of magical energy without the proper care. Or worse, doing this on purpose. What's it doing to your forest?"

"Forest okay. Nature magic strong. But will not be okay forever..."

"Don't worry. It might take me a few months, but I'll sort this out." Orphea assured. "These forests are a part of Ravencourt, so I think protecting them is part of my duty too."

"That is good thing. Brightwing will keep forest alive for as long as I can!"

"Great. I'll uphold my end of this arrangement too... and perhaps call on you if I need more power against my father."

* * *

At the end of the day, Orphea felt much better. At the very least, like she wasn't on the verge of dying of dehydration, nor was she falling into starvation. The path here had been somewhat of a challenge... But as she looked up to the looming crags of Alterac, a great raised land crowned in snow all year round, she knew there was so much more she would have to face.

The path had been steadily sloping upwards all day, but the foresting had obscured the mountains from sight. Until at last, the two of them emerged at the end of the pathway, where the soil turned to stone and the trees became sparse and hardy.

"Alterac... I'll have to cross over, to get the help I need." Orphea said, touching down on the floor. "I should probably rest before I try and go over that. I have no idea what the limitations on my flight are, and falling down the steep side of a cliff..."

"Falling will hurt a lot if you do not fly." Supplied Brightwing. "You are going over the cold place, friend?"

"Yes. It's the only hope I have." Orphea looked up. "Now, let's work together to protect our homes. I can count on you, right?"

"Yes yes, Brightwing will not let the bad chaos get rid of the good chaos." Brightwing flew around easily, looping and coiling in ways Orphea didn't dare with her own abilities.

Orphea walked up to the edge of the ascent carefully, and put a hand on the light grey stone. Despite the trail, she felt like she was isolated from all civilisation here, completely off the map. "...So, I suppose we can consider each other friends forever now?" There was a mildly sarcastic undertone, but it was lost on the lizard.

"Yes! Brightwing always want friends. Can I be friends with the box monster too?"

"Um..."

'Heh. Why not?'

The set of floating teeth appeared, floating up in front of Orphea.

"You can." Orphea said calmly.

"Yay!" Brightwing flapped forwards, and the apparition vanished before she got anywhere near it. "Aw..." She shook herself. "Oh, friend. You must be careful when you are going over. It is very cold. Being cold is bad. Will freeze you to sleep."

Orphea sat down, seeing the sun close to setting. She yawned. "I... understand. I'm really tired now, so... I'm going to just..." She found a comfortable angle on the rock. A good part of her was amazed she could sleep on nothing but a somewhat flat rock with a cut along her side. The other part completely unsurprised, because she'd fallen unconscious in the mud last night. How fast standards could fall...

"Have a good dream, friend... I hope that you do not die."


	9. Chapter 6: Fright

Orphea opened her eyes. The magic she protected herself with felt renewed, and while a small portion was depleted from shielding her overnight, it felt stronger like a muscle exercised. She blinked a few times, and rubbed the sleep out. She was sure she looked like a mess at this point, having slept on the floor for two nights in a row, but she did also wonder if she might have a certain aura of toughness under the completely undignified mess.

She peeled herself off the ground, and noticed another branch on the floor next to her. A few plums seemed to be growing on it.

'She came back after a few hours and left these with you.' Osiris said, as Orphea picked up the branch.

"How kind. Shame there's no extra water..." Orphea plucked one of the fruits off and bit into it, cringing at the sour flavour. "Ugh. Not the best... but beggars really can't be choosers. I've told that to enough people."

'Dare I ask when?'

"Suppressed a few rebellions." Orphea held the branch tight, and drank the rest of her water. "Doesn't matter how hard-pressed we are for food, if a village isn't given enough to feed everyone... they WILL be furious. And in that anger, it's easy to shift the blame to those they percieve as having control over the matter."

'...A young girl shouldn't need to speak of such things, Orphea.' Osiris took on a saddened tone.

"Better for me to see the harshness of life if I'm to decide the lives so many people will lead. Or would you rather I'm a spoilt brat, unaware of the functions of the world?"

'...There's a far divide between spoilt and this, Orphea... I'm sorry you had to lose your childhood.'

"Don't be. It's for everyone's good, including my own. And nowhere near the level of handling executions." Orphea shifted the strap on the sarcophagus. "Now, let's get moving. We need to get over that mountain range as fast as we can."

Orphea took one step, and clapped a hand to her side. It didn't hurt. "What the..." She pulled the cloth cover away, to reveal unblemished skin. "The cut's healed. Completely!"

'That Faerie Dragon radiated magic... I wonder...' Osiris seemed just as curious as Orphea. 'Regardless, this is a huge boon. What a stroke of luck, hm?'

The ascent was steep. Orphea walked parts, and flew others, sure to conserve as much strength as she could. While in the forest, she'd merely fall a metre to the floor if she completely ran herself dry, here it would be almost certain death. She looked down far more often than she should have; and every time a wave of fear washed over her chest, leaving her shuddering and gripping her branch of plums ever tighter. The air grew cold, then chilling, and then outright frigid. Despite breaking up any physical climbing she did with levitation and flight, she found herself running out of breath. And she saw small patches of snow on the rocks, the stone freezing to her ungloved hands. She soon found herself using the branch to prevent anything coming through her protective magic, hands pale as the snow around her.

Eventually, she crested one particularly high hill, surrounded in sharp rocks that could have sent someone to their death below as easily as taking a step.

A great field of crisp snow stretched out in front of her, easily as large and wide as the entire grounds of Ravencourt's Tower. She was sorely tempted not to hover over it, and leave a singular line of footprints over the pristine landscape. But the knowledge it would chill her feet off was enough to stop her.

'I always wanted to make a snowman.' Orphea mused. She looked at the blanket of fine ice over this plain, flying over it.

'...I would encourage you, but catching a chill now would probably be the end of us.'

'I never said I would.'

'You thought it, though.'

'You can be insufferable at times...'

Orphea flew to the end of the snowfield, noticing there was actually a fairly steep drop at the edge, the backdrop of mountains doing well to conceal it. Orphea stepped down onto some rocks that jutted out, sweeping a few handfuls of snow away with a little magic, as she looked out.

A truly immense range of mountain ice and snow was before her. Crevices and natural bridges, well-walked pathways forming a network like blood vessels, and the evergreen trees that could tough it out even at this great altitude were mixed with the odd visible encampment, torches that burned so far away somehow still warm to look at... it all came together to form a snowy scene fit for a picture, especially with the highest peaks visible in the distance.

It was all too easy to forget that this place was a warzone. Orphea knew that even as she admired the beauty, there could easily be people fighting and dying to try and hold onto this land. Gazing out over Alterac, she noted the forests. Thin in some places, thick in others. They'd make excellent cover for avoiding the soldiers as she traversed the pass.

'I think I see a route through. If we start by going through the nearby forest, and then move around the edge, we ought to be able to remain undetected. It would best to avoid any conflict, speed is key to protecting Ravencourt.' Orphea surveyed the land.

'Don't get overconfident. There are trained soldiers down there, and any military worth its salt will make damn sure nothing gets past the battle lines. Both sides will kill you on sight, or capture and interrogate you at best.'

'Soldiers may be dangerous, but I'm more than any normal human can handle. If you don't have a better route, I'm going to get moving.' Orphea lightly jumped off the edge, waves of dreadful vertigo going through her as she slowed her descent, gliding past the path down. The wind gusted with some noise, but as she got closer to the ground, she could hear voices in the distance.

'And that's a perfectly good reason to become a highly conspicuous aerial target, hm?'

'I don't see anyone down there.'

'Arrow.'

Orphea jolted to the side, and true to word, an arrow zipped past her and glanced off the side of her head, the barrier her tiara provided saving her life and looks. She looked down to see that while she'd very carefully looked out for any visible troops across the entirety of Alterac, she'd not checked the actual cliff face below her.

And so of course, an entire encampment of orcs were now shooting at her with longbows, and she saw more mounting giant dire wolves, holding immense longswords.

She tried to fly forwards as fast as she could, feeling a few more arrows impact her defences. These ones were direct hits, and would easily have pierced through her if she'd not had protection. Even so, halting them was an incredibly quick drain on her, and she knew another two or three would be enough to break her flight, if not kill her. She dashed forwards, and to the side, as more whizzed by.

'Drop closer to the ground, if you can reach the trees we only need to worry about the cavalry!' Commanded Osiris, as he focused solely on short-range dodging.

'On it!' Orphea fell into a sharp dive, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at the floor as it rushed up, and for a precious few moments the arrows ceased to harry her, before she reactivated her magic and pulled into a turn, trying to come up and speed forwards.

While the move was a good idea, Orphea lacked experience with the dynamics of flight. Trying to pull up was harder than expected. She gained a lot of forward speed, but couldn't quite counteract gravity, the g-force a struggle to overcome as well. She hit the ground sprinting like mad, winding herself from the impact and almost completely bowling herself over, before Osiris managed to pull them up a bit, hurtling towards the trees.

Orphea fought to regain control of her flight path and dodged the first few trees, quickly losing her speed as she nearly smacked into trunks and had to move around them. She returned to normal speed, and floated along for a few seconds before she heard barking, and cursed. "We can't outrun them. I'll have to try and fight them off."

'Well, you're the one who claims that you're more than any normal human can handle.'

"These are orcs! Stronger, faster, and much less reserved about skewering a thirteen year old!" Orphea found a clearing, and spied three of the wolfriders approaching fast, mounts barking as the riders cheered them on. She held a hand in front of her, and concentrated until she'd formed a ball of magic, ready to fling it at a target.

"RIDERS, FORWARD! CUT 'EM DOWN, OR CUT 'EM UP!"

"How inspiring..." Orphea drawled, creating a second ball of magic.

'With all due respect, I think you'd stand a better chance if you used the whip attack. I can siphon some chaos from your emotions to help you dash when you cast, and evasion will be key in our state.'

"Very well. These will be to try and warn them off, then." Orphea got into a lithe stance, trying to ignore the pain in her legs where she'd slammed the ground.

The riders got closer, and Orphea flung her two balls of charged energy. They blasted the ground in front of the riders, one of them leaping cleanly over her attack and the other ignoring it completely, charging on through the spray of dirt and debris. Orphea could barely quash her fear at seeing her attack achive nothing, and pulled out her contained anguish, her spike whip on the brink of materialisation.

'You know, as calm as you may appear, there's quite the mess in your head up here.'

"Not the time!" Orphea whispered. She cleared her throat, and held a hand up in preparation, before raising her voice to a shout. "Stay Back, or I WILL destroy you!"

Her words had no effect on the riders, as all three started to close in on her.

The whip was out and down in a split second, the first rider deflecting it with some struggle, and as the second one surged past them Orphea waltzed to the side beautifully, weaving in a humiliating kick in the face and evading the cavalry saber by a mere hair, before she landed and threw her rage manifest at both of them, a disembodied maw snapping shut in front of her. One was thrown from their mount, the other's blade cracked and was nearly completely ripped from their grasp as they fumbled to get a grip again.

Orphea thrust a palm forwards, intending to stun the still-mounted foe with a bolt of magic, but instead a powerful blast of energy loosed and blew a hole in the rider's armour. She could see skin underneath that was tainted by the eldritch chaos, and drew her hand back a little in surprise.

'Hm. So you CAN siphon chaos energy from that repressed emotional miasma.'

"I'm not trying to make enemies here! Don't amplify my attacks, grandfather, I might kill them! The last thing Ravencourt needs is an orcish invasion!"

'I don't think they had any intention of being peaceful, you know. Anyway, I'll teach you to weaponise that chaos later. Or just write the knowledge into your brain. Mind your left!'

Orphea dashed to the right, and brought down her heavy whip again to duel the third rider, twirling back and throwing a few weaker bolts fowards. They dodged one and took the rest head-on, charging straight for Orphea and lunging with their sword. She smacked them in the face with her whip, seeing their jaw bend and armour scratch, before neatly sidestepping the sword and then blasting their riding hand with magic, seing them tumbling to the floor as their grip failed.

"Well, that was eas-"

There was a sudden thump and a massive weight on her back, like the coffin was suddenly a ton of steel bricks. Orphea dropped to her knees and was flat on the floor in seconds. As it turns out, aiming to disable means your enemies can get back up and keep fighting.

"GOT 'ER!" Yelled a rider. He was even louder up close. "Ya useless curs, really let yourselves get taken down by a tiny little human?"

Orphea struggled under the pinning weight, before one of them put a foot on the back of her neck and completely trapped her, only an inch away from breaking her spine. "Get... off..."

"You's coming with us! Drek'thar is looking for you, girl!" Declared one of the riders. "Tie her up, brethren! And if she tries anything funny... stab 'er!"

Orphea tried to think of a way out, some cunning cantrip to free herself and turn the tables, but the boot on the back of her neck was joined by a sword, before her hands were tied behind her back, her feet bound together, and then her whole body trussed up completely in rope, until she was so restricted she could barely bend. The leading orc picked her up with one hand and tied her to the back of his dire wolf.

"Alright, let's get off to Drek'thar! See if this pleases those spirits!" The leader mounted up, and spurred his beast on, as Orphea bounced around.

Orphea felt a voice inside her mind, even through the disruptive jostling of the dire wolf. 'That could have gone better... When do we break free?'

'Grandfather, let's not act rashly. If I make the tiniest wrong move here I'm dead, and I really can't afford to die.'

They rode across the icy plains with only the noise of a wolf running, Orphea forcibly restraining her fear, locking it deep inside. It wouldn't break free. She wouldn't panic. She would stay calm, and wait for a good opportunity. Assuming she didn't end up with another bloody headache from all this bouncing.

After a few minutes of riding, Orphea came to two important conclusions: However bad wet dog smelled, a dire wolf that was damp from the snow was worse. And if she ever got the chance, she was going to loosen the rope on her hands and ankles, damn the consequences. This thing felt like it was going to pop her hands out of her wrists.

She was so consumed by the pain from her bindings that she didn't realise they were coming into a large encampment until the wolf drew to a stop. Suddenly, orcs. Everywhere she looked. Orcs in armour, orcs shirtless in the biting cold, orcs with swords, lances, axes, hammers, and just about every other kind of crude-but-sturdy weapon she could imagine. Orcs relaxing, orcs sparring, orcs talking over a fire, orcs throwing things into the fire, orcs shouting about everything... Huts were set up in a wide circle and stretched back in a messy formation that screamed they'd just been thrown down without too much planning, but happened to be well-placed anyway.

In a rush, the rider untied her from his wolf and picked her up in one hand again, holding her up in the air like a grumpy trophy. "OI, DREK'THAR! GOT HER!"

Orphea was in a very good position to see the entire encampment go still for a moment, all eyes on her. She scowled. A pathway parted in front of the rider, leading up to the fire in the middle of the encampment.

The rider walked down it, still holding her up in the air with one hand. She had a horrible vision of being pitched into the flames like a basketball, until she was walked around, and saw one orc facing away from the fires, blindfolded. A thick fur wrapped around his lower half, and he bore two raven-skull shoulderpads and a pair of spiky weapons that simultaneously seemed to be understated and imposing. The rider stopped, standing behind Drek'thar with Orphea still held in the air.

She remained up there for a good ten seconds, before clearing her throat. "Not to be rude, but I do have to get through here quickly, so can you maybe react now? Sir, what's keeping you?"

Drek'thar turned around with a wry old grin. "I just wanted to see how long he'd stand there like that. I am Drek'thar, chief of the Frostwolf Clan."

Orphea was rapidly set down, as the orc quickly stretched his arm. "I am Orphea, heiress of Ravencourt. I need to get to King's Crest, so... what do I need to do to be let through?"

"Aren't you bold, girl!" Drek'thar loomed over Orphea. "You're ours now. We are the ones who made our home in this icy land, and we don't take kindly to invading humans..." He dragged his two weapons across each other, sharpening them.

"Don't do this." Orphea begged. "If I die here, then I won't be able to stop the land falling to the Dark Nexus. Left unchecked, it will consume us all."

"A mere child that can't slay three wolfriders thinks she can halt a world-ending threat? Ha. We'd be better off using our own power. The Frostwolves aren't easily beaten. Now, little human... you will be sacrificed, as the spirits ask. Ready yourself for the end." Drek'thar drew back, and even though he was blindfolded his aim was clearly perfect, his thrust sure to pierce her neck.

Fear. Fright. Dread. Orphea didn't want to die here. On a fundamental level, she knew she wasn't ready to die. Consciously, she feared for Ravencourt, for the Nexus itself. Dread was something infused into every level of her psyche. She latched onto that emotion that threatened to break through her mask, and she expelled it.

A wave of something snaking and ropy, like the roots of some poision tree, curled through the floor. It was the same sickly purple as the rest of her raging emotions, studded with bony spikes. The wave pooled and collected under Drek'thar, and erupted. Five, maybe six huge bone spears shot up from the pool of purple gunge.

Drek'thar halted his thrust, twisting to one side and folding his off-hand weapon over his arm, blocking the largest spike before it could stab his chest. He started to pick himself out of the spikes, and Orphea blasted her binding ropes with chaos, throwing them off and rolling to the side before a huge sword struck where she'd been just a fraction of a second late.

"I'll ask again! What does it take to get through here without all you bothering me!?" Orphea glanced around, seeing the entire camp pointing weapons at her. Avoiding this many attacks would be impossible. Maybe with some kind of defensive spell..? But she didn't know any special defence magics.

"Well, well..." Drek'thar murmured. "Not terrible, for a human. I see now what the spirit spoke of."

"Look here, you! If I'm dying here, I'm taking you with me! Understand?! Now why can't you just let me go past and not be a huge nuisance!?"

"Calm, warriors. I've nothing worse than a scratch." Drek'thar called sagely, the camp lowering its' arsenal and staring at the chief expectantly. "The raven spirit told us you were coming... a lone human who would fly over us from behind. Normally, we would just kill you and be done with it, for your intrusion... but this spirit was specific. It told us you could solve a problem for us if we sacrificed you..."

"Oh, so I just forgive you because some spirit told you to do this? You'd not have caught me without them! You'd just want to kill me anyway for being a human." Orphea kept herself ready to evade and attack, emotions controlled and posture steady.

"Ha, of course I don't expect- or want forgiveness! Nobody here has a shred of remorse for some human, after all that's happened between us. No, you will still be sacrificed. But perhaps you may yet survive... Come. Sit by the fire, and I will tell you what I ask in exchange for allowing your trespass." Drek'thar gestured to some logs next to the campfire.

"You won't just shove me in?" Orphea said dryly.

"It would be a waste. Although you will wish I did, should you fail in this trial." Drek'thar sat down. "Be thankful you conceal some fighting talent, or I would have ripped out your cowering heart and been done with you."

"Fine. I'll play along." Huffed Orphea, walking over to a log and very deliberately positioning herself so it would be hard to shove her into the flames. "So, how are you going to ask me to die? Politely, I don't suppose?"

"A human with an almost passable sense of humor. How unusual. We've been harassed by an abomination as of late, but it flees our riders, and I cannot spare the warriors to hunt it down lest the Alliance break into our territory. So, you shall bait it out. If it kills you, then you have been sacrificed, but your escort ought to be able to finish the job for us. If you kill it? I will grant you safe passage to the front lines."

"Done. I can handle myself." Orphea replied nonchalantly, brushing some mud and snow off her overcoat. "Who's going to escort me to wherever it hides?"

"The one who brought you here. Wristbreaker, go and get her a wolf so you can ride out to the area." Drek'thar's words didn't have commanding force behind them so much as a casual working relationship backed up with incredible violence.

The orc who'd brought Orphea over cracked his knuckles and walked off. "On it."

"Get me a girl, would you? One with a nice clean coat, if you've got any like that." Orphea called sweetly-sarcastically. "So now's the time to mention I've never even ridden a horse, let alone a giant dog."

"It's easy." Drek'thar shrugged. "Perhaps your mount will throw you to an icy death, and that's what the spirits spoke of?"

"How reassuring." Orphea said, tone becoming ever drier. "So, what exactly am I going to have to hunt down for you? Tell me everything you know."

"It's an abomination, one of the scourge's vile troops. They are sewn together from corpses and reanimated as many-armed and enormous monsters, the process of rotting slowed to a crawl by foul magics. But it seems to be far tougher and smarter than the rank and file, and it wanders alone." Drek'thar explained. "It consumes those that get too close instantly through some necrotic process. If I had any to spare, I'd personally use shamans to burn it from a distance first."

"Hmm... Useful information. I'll be off as soon as my transport arrives. And I really hope you intend to be honourable about your deal."

"I've no love for humans, but I can overlook a single harmless one in exchange for getting rid of a foul thing like that." Drek'thar got up, and went to look out over the pass once again. "Of course, if I see you again... your life will be short and brutal. Now... Lok'tar o'gar, child. Victory or death."


	10. Chapter 7: Insatiable

'So, did you notice a Raven spirit tipped them off you'd be coming? Golly gee, I wonder who that could have been!'

'No need to be so sarcastic, grandfather. And... golly gee? Who says that?'

Orphea kept herself leaned forwards and down, the wrapped coffin on her back sticking up on what would otherwise have been a very streamlined figure. Despite the sarcastic nature of her request, her captor had actually found a well-groomed female wolf for Orphea to ride, and thirteen-year old humans weigh far, far less than burly orcs. She had absolutely no trouble keeping pace with the experienced rider in front.

Although she wasn't actually sure if she was the one riding the wolf, or if it was just well-trained and following the rider in front. At least it smelled okay. A more dignified thing to ride to your death than the previous beast, and a more dignified riding position to go with it.

But that didn't change the fact it was bouncing her all over the place and Orphea felt like it was going to directly strip the skin from the inside of her legs while it molded her bones into a curve.

After a long few minutes of traversing mountain trails and snowy plains, they came up to a large patch of trees. Orphea's wolf came to a stiff halt, and barked once, loud enough to hurt her ears.

"Alright, alright... dumb animal..." Orphea got out of the saddle, and waddled a few steps. "Ow, ow ouch."

"Hah! You're gonna have to be a bit tougher than that, little pinkskin!" Wristbreaker laughed, sitting there on his own mount. "Anyway, come back here with some proof it's dead, and we'll head back. That, or I'll hear your dying screams, so make them nice and loud if you get caught, okay?"

"Charming." Orphea stretched her legs closer together, and limbered up. "Maybe you should try practicing speaking to Her before you work your way up to actual women?" She politely gestured to her she-wolf, as it sniffed at a bush. "See you soon!"

"Cocky brat!" Yelled Wristbreaker, as Orphea made a point of sauntering into the woods as confidently as she could.

'Stay on guard, Orphea. This is no place for theatrics.' Warned Osiris, as she took her first steps in the forest.

It seemed completely average at a cursory glance. Trees, dirt and snow, with the occasional other plant growing in the cold climate. But there was a faint smell in the air, just enough to set one's nerves on edge. The stink of death was one that carried far.

'I know who we're looking for. We always keep records on the current spatial echoes present in the Nexus. It's more than likely Stitches. We ought to watch out for the hook, I heard he snatched away several guards from our towns once before a demon hunter intervened and took him down.' Orphea deduced mentally. 'I can't remember his other weapons, but Abominations aren't exactly stealthy or shy. Maybe I should make a little noise, and draw it to me?'

Her feet fell on soft ground, as Orphea did all she could to conserve her mana. She'd just scuffled with three horde wolfriders, even if it had been a short and bloodless fight. That was before factoring in the days spent sleeping poorly and eating very small amounts of food at best. But it did all come together to make her feel like a toughened survivor, walking the world and enduring it's trials no matter how they tried to fell her. However, her grasp on reality was not so poor. She knew that while she was a trained killer, her wilderness survival skills boiled down to common sense and a healthy dose of luck. A line of skin down the side of her midriff reminded her that if not for a fortunate encounter with a healer, she'd be in no state to fight whatsoever.

Despite knowing she was the one trying to seek out a foe, the huntress could become the hunted in the blink of an eye. She expected to find it around every tree. Every noise was just indistinct enough to sound like a heavy footstep or rattle of a chain. Her false confidence folded like a lawn chair, leaving a scared but determined girl, steady and brave.

After a few minutes searching, she found something.

A few small trees were broken, like they'd been rammed by an incredibly heavy object. Some were slashed by what could only have been a metal blade. And there was a putrid smell in the air, faint but unmistakably vomit.

"There was a struggle here. Looks like our target must have fought someone..." Orphea said, inspecting the cut. The Abomination's cleaver must have been huge, more than enough to just bludgeon someone to death without even using the edge.

'If you think we're in it's territory, I suggest you formulate a plan to actually kill it.'

"Easy enough. It relies on using a giant hook to draw people into range. I can dodge if I know it's coming. So I'll just find a wall to put my back to, and start hollering. When it can't ambush me, I can win in a fight without doubt." Orphea said in a quiet tone.

'You said that about the wolfriders.'

"I wasn't aiming to kill. I'd have won if I was."

'...Just don't overestimate yourself.'

Orphea shuffled the coffin on her back, adjusting it to a comfortable position, and stood up.

There was a distinct, bizarre sound for just a few moments. A sound like... a lot of small objects hitting the dirt? She glanced around. "What was that?!"

'I don't know. My senses are quite limited in here. But I couldn't detect any magic, so probably just some beast.' Osiris remained observant.

"I hope it's nothing serious..." Orphea said, although the moment the words were out of her mouth, she suspected it was.

* * *

She walked through the forest again, nerves battling her every action. All she needed was a wall to put her back to, and then she could fight. Confidence was a funny thing, something she had no trouble projecting from herself in any social situation, but always feeling lacking when the stakes were high, regardless of what she told herself. Eventually, she spied a cliff face. It was a sheer rock wall the height of two houses, rising from the floor, the top riddled with trees.

"Perfect. I suppose now I just have to lure it over..." Orphea held out a hand. "Grandfather, what noise do you think would attract an abomination without convincing our rider to leave?"

'Just start calling. It won't be fussy.'

"Abominatiooon, come out come ooout!" Orphea's words carried through the forest, eventually dying to the faroff winds. "Come on, I'm waiting for you!"

She stayed still. Nothing seemed to be happening, but she felt she was in terrible danger.

Something moved, in the distance. Just a grey dot, far among the trees. "That must be it."

'Prepare for a fight. And remember to leave at least part of it intact to prove you slew the foul thing.'

Orphea calmed herself externally, levitating up into the air. She brought her emotions close to the surface, memories of her father enough to fuel her magic for this fight. It was lumbering closer, and was definitely an abomination in every sense of the word. Corpses sewn together as they rotted, driven by magic. It held a cleaver in one hand, and a hook in the other, but a third withered arm sprouted off too, holding something.

And as it got closer, Orphea saw a mouth filled with decaying teeth and greenish slime, and a second huge opening in the gut, filled with sharp bone 'teeth' and some kind of flap that must also have been a mouth of some kind, and the stench of rancid meat reached her.

And she could hear it calling. In a stuffy, half-functional voice.

"Stitches want to play... Stitches want to play... Stitches... Ah!" It looked up, sunken eyes going wide. "Play, play, play! Come HERE!"

Orphea dodged to the side, the hook hitting the cliff face behind her with a metallic chink. She shoved aside her disgust, and reached forwards, beckoning it over. "Come on then! I'll play your game!"

"Smash, smash, PLAY!" It raised the cleaver up, and started to shamble and run towards her, the withered hand winding up another hook.

Orphea let it draw close, and slammed down her tendril at a distance, before vaulting away from the slow-falling cleaver. This foe would be nightmarishly difficult to fight at close range, but as long as she was light on her feet...

She danced. It was a frenetic series of moves, weaving together dodges, attacks, and the occasional bit of vanity. Tendril down, dash, unleash a wave of Dread to entangle it and then slip in to crush down with her fury, before lashing it again and dashing out with a flourish and a bolt of chaos energy.

Stitches couldn't touch her.

And as she made it to the third round of her waltz in an emotional mire, Stitches fell to one knee, unable to move, banging his cleaver on the floor weakly.

"Well. That wasn't so bad." Orphea floated above it, trying to work out where to strike to kill it quickly. Maybe the back of the neck?

'MOVE!'

Orphea barely had time to process the word before Osiris shoved her to the side, taking control of her flight for a brief second.

Something huge, with a monstrous form, landed on Stitches and ripped a chunk out of the abomination's back with it's teeth. It must have jumped from the cliff, and as Orphea spared a glance there she saw more monsters jumping down in all shapes and sizes- at least a dozen. They converged on the fallen Abomination, and Orphea shuddered as she realised the first one had actually _eaten _a chunk of that putrid thing.

The monster was some kind of amalgamation reminiscent of a demon, but lacking in flame and malice, filled only with a hungry drive. Four arms ending in claws, several thick armour plates over its' body, and dark purple to black colouration. Its' eyes seemed to bore into Orphea's in challenge, sizing her up as a bonus kill.

She was in the process of backpedaling out when what she assumed to be the alpha moved a little, directly towards her. She didn't know what she expected, but recognisible english wasn't on the list.

"Kill!"

Although the order it gave was entirely expected.

Orphea made to run, but reached out with her magic, exerting a telekinetic pull on the cleaver. It bumped along the ground towards her as the rest of the monsters ran towards her. The cleaver got moving, and Orphea fled. She zipped through the forest, aware she was being chased down by the monsters.

Two smaller ones were far faster than the rest, chasing her down with ease. And in the corner of her eyes she saw they bared mouthes full of teeth. If one dragged her down, she knew she'd be torn apart. So she flew faster, and faster...

And then, Orphea put a foot down and sprung into the air, twisting and taking a second to line up her shot precisely. The monster seemed too dumb to dodge, and Orphea saw it crumple under the weight of her tendril. The other one ran over it's fallen comrade without a care, and Orphea snapped those magic jaws shut and cut it in half, head rolling from a fractured body.

More approached, not as fast as the two she'd just killed. Orphea got ready to stand and fight again, seeing two huge snake-like things slither closer, rearing up with huge heads.

Spikes shot out. A few bounced off Orphea's barrier, and she felt it drain fast at the sheer lethality of the spines. But retreat wasn't an option yet...

So she focused. She yanked the cleaver towards her with her mind, directing it's flight path. It went through the back of one of these two monsters and all but caused it to explode into a mess of innards. Orphea reached out and caught it, using magic to lift it up, and threw a wave of Dread at her pursuers, speeding off.

* * *

"We really ought to be getting rid of things like them." Orphea was starting to feel the magical burnout of sustaining a spell for so long. Especially since telekinesis wasn't her strong point.

'How? We've not the armies to spend exterminating every little threat...'

"I know, I know. But still, if it preys on humans we really need to think about wiping it out." She walked as she spoke, seeing the edge of the forest approach.

'Like that faerie dragon we encountered earlier?'

"...That's different. She was on our side. And open to talking."

'Hypocrite.'

"If someone is willing to negotiate, then I'll return the favour. If they keep their life for being nice and reasonable, good for them." Orphea said. "There's a huge difference between a threat willing to talk and one that just shouts Kill."

'...Not the worst persuasion, but you'll need better if you want to be a good leader. Ah, here we are.' Osiris noted, as they reached the edge of the forest again. His presence left Orphea's mind, as she stepped out into the sunlight, holding up the huge cleaver.

The look on Wristbreaker's face was almost as good as the feeling of success.

"...Damn." He muttered.

Orphea took a little curtsy, like she'd finished a performance. "Impressed?"

"A bit." He shrugged roughly. "Mount up, pinkskin. And, uh... How?"

Orphea wandered over to her huge dire wolf, and tied the cleaver to the saddle. It didn't seem at all fazed by the weight. "Between you, me and your pride... I was trying not to kill you when you captured me."

"Gahaha, I'll believe it after you put me in the ground." Guffawed the rider.

Orphea floated up to the saddle herself, and got seated. "Good girl, good stupid mutt, easy now..."

"Hyah!" Yelled Wristbreaker, and both of them sped off. He called back as they rode. "Gotta say! You might be a weakling human child, but you ain't no normal weakling human child!"

"I try."

They rode together for the whole way back, mountain air doing a good job of preventing the vile cleaver from making Orphea want to throw up. Eldritch magic? She could handle that in her sleep. Open wounds? Clean, restrict bloodflow, tie bandage. But the smell of that abomination made Wristbreaker's damp, grimy wolf seem downright flowery. She made a mental note to throw the cleaver into a fire if she got the chance. It would probably poison any water used to wash it.

As they made it back up the hill to the encampment, Orphea couldn't help but feel accomplished. All around, the orcs ranged from confused, to surprised, to outright gobsmacked that some puny girl had defeated a threat that had won against elite warriors.

They both rode up to the fire again, and Orphea slid off her wolf, walking forwards with gritted teeth to try and hide how sore the saddle left her. "Drek'thar!"

Two orcs were at the head of the campfire this time. In the hour or two she'd been gone, Drek'thar had been joined by an orc in thick bronze-leather plates, set with some heavy spikes and a giant, legendary hammer. Two long dreadlocks shifted in the wind, along with a ponytail, though it was long and strong enough that 'horsetail' would better have described the locks. He turned to face her, holding the Doomhammer like it weighed no more than a stick. "It seems she has succeeded."

"Indeed." Added Drek'thar, turning. "The spirits tell me you were denied the final blow, but that you fought with skill... and some honor."

"Some other beast ambushed us. I managed to get this back as proof... at great personal risk, I might add." Orphea left the complaint unspoken, making it all the same. If he could magically determine if she'd succeeded, why ask for proof?!

"Then I will uphold my bargain, unless the Warchief wishes otherwise." Drek'thar said, looking to the other orc.

Orphea gave a small bow. "Warchief Thrall, I presume?"

"You needn't bow. As warchief, I will release you, and grant you passage to the frontlines." Thrall smiled just a bit. "But! I am impressed you could defeat such a monster while so young. If you desire, I will allow you to stay until break of dawn tomorrow, to restore your strength for the rest of the journey. Such opportunities are rare while on the run, no?"

"How did you... Ah, you're a seer. You know why I'm here, then?" Orphea crossed her arms. "...Then why send me into danger?"

"I know a great evil has been unleashed, in your homeland. It is for the Horde that I make this offer." Thrall confirmed. "I am sorry you may need to turn your magic against your family- It is a tragedy I have seen before. But it was important you fought that battle. You will require all the practice you can get, to master your new abilities."

"...I guess." Shrugged Orphea. "Well, it'll be nice to have an actual bed for once. I gladly accept your offer, warchief."

* * *

Orphea lay on her back, on a few sheets of scratchy burlap cloth. How did anyone sleep on this?! But... it definitely beat freezing to death in the snows.

'Never expected the orcs would be good hosts...' Osiris commented, voice as mildly sarcastic as always.

'It's Thrall. He's known for his unusual kindness, and incredible fighting prowess. Any threat to his people will be smashed to a pulp- that's what our records say. To think, he could just ask, and the camp was willing to just... allow a human to stay.'

'Rare for an orc, indeed...'

'Keep watch while I sleep. This situation is... probably a trap? I mean, lone human, but with enough power to-'

'Shush about your power, Orphea. I think it's going to your head.' Osiris had no body, but Orphea could easily imagine a wizard leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

'I know, I knooow... It just happens to be one of the few assets I have right now, since Ravencourt is getting ruined.'

'I'm hardly chopped liver, you know. And you do also have an at least semi-functional brain.'

Orphea just shut her eyes, and hoped she'd drift off. 'Rude... We're going to go far tomorrow. As far as we can...'

Osiris remained silent, the magical presence the coffin exerted hanging over the room. To the naked eye, it was just a girl in a fancy self-cleaning dress, lying inside a tiny tent on a scratchy bedroll. To one sensitive to the arcane, it looked like a complete deathtrap.

And she found sleep, the many trials she'd faced in the daytime draining away her energy.

Just like that, she opened her eyes. Light was streaming in through the tent flap, cold and bright. Snows had fallen, and... there was... a figure at the door?

"Wake up."

Orphea snapped to attention, halfway through preapring an attack before the realised the figure wasn't moving. "...Thrall?" She blinked a few times, and saw the orange tinge in the sky. "...I know you said dawn, but this really is early. One moment." She got up, and slipped the coffin over her back, careful not to knock off the cloth covering.

"Come. While your presence may be tolerated for your valor, welcome will wear thin." Thrall held the door open, and Orphea stepped through, a chill shooting through her feet as she stepped into the snows. She chose to float, as always.

"...Thank you for the rest, and the chance to have some food. I'll take my leave immediately."

"Hold." Thrall looked at her sternly. "I will escort you to the edge of the camp. I can't afford to let any of our secrets slip to the Alliance, who you will no doubt come into contact with."

"...It is likely. I'm just hoping they don't think I'm some kind of... double agent." Orphea flew along slowly, as Thrall marched ahead.

They picked their way through the camp, to an exit ramp below the cliff. Thin clouds covered the sky, threatening snow again, and the early morning sun was just breaking. Thrall looked around. "I brought you here to give you a message. You are to take it to the Alliance."

"...I'm listening."

"I have been acting to avoid this dispute escalating into all-out war. If the Alliance advance any further, then they will be taking our land, and I will see them burn. There's a river up ahead... that marks the boundary. If one alliance soldier crosses it, it means war."

"I understand. You don't want war, do you? You may be of a warrior race, but you... you understand the horrors. What it would mean to fight the Alliance, even when both of you only have fractions of your forces."

"I doubt you truly know what you speak of- but yes. I do not wish to see my people die. Not on Azeroth, not in this Nexus." Thrall said, tone low. He gripped his hammer and stood straight and proud, as commanding as a leader should be. "Now, go. For the sake of this world."

"Yes, warchief Thrall. I hope conflict can be avoided, and goodbye." Orphea turned, and floated into the skies, chilling winds threatening to pierce her magics. But a strange power filled her, spreading through her blood like candlelight. She would fly through this storm, and reach the other side. She would do all she could to succeed in her tasks.

And that was what drove her to her conclusion. That she would pass this message along in full knowledge it would give the alliance an advantage. That she would even ally with the Alliance, because the Horde would block her return. That she would choose to repay this kindness with betrayal. But... 'It's the best choice for everyone. It's... I know it's cold, that it's dishonourable to do something like this, but... I have to stop the Dark Nexus. And I can always try... to give small mercies.'

For the Nexus. It seemed like such a shaky justification now, but it was all she had...


	11. Chapter 8: Ravenous Hunger

The sky was serene and deadly. Orphea knew she'd have fallen to the ground below and shattered as a chunk of ice if she wasn't protecting herself. As it was, she simply admired snowflakes that went past her, and held onto Thrall's warning like a lifeline.

If the Alliance forces crossed the river, it meant war.

Regardless of her feelings towards the orcs, war was the amongst the worst horrors that could be wrought. Orphea had both been intrigued and sickened to the core when she read accounts of it from her family library- and recieved lessons on how to justify it and maintain morale, in the event it became a necessity.

Of course, she had another goal all the same. While the goodness and maturity in her wanted to help two peoples avoid falling into a war, her duty that had been given to her since birth was to look after Ravencourt. She could stay and say her piece, but first and foremost- she had to reach King's Crest. She had to obtain the forces to seal the Dark Nexus once again.

'And that's different to a war?'

"Not again, grandfather..."

'It's important to justify your actions.'

Orphea took a resolute breath. "With the armies of King's Crest, I intended to skirt around Alterac, and go to my home as the crow flies- in a straight, uninterrputed line. The Dark Nexus is a twisted mirror of the real one, and so I doubt it will properly intercept us. There should be only one battle, and there should only be living beings on one side. But I think... that will take too long. An extra week, perhaps? Easily enough time to sign away the lives of my people."

'And if the beings from the Dark Nexus are alive? Self-aware? ...Sentient?'

"..." Orphea swallowed. "Then I sentence them to death, for murder of my people and destruction of my homeland."

'Very well.' Osiris almost seemed to nod, metaphysical as he was. 'Not the best answer, but an acceptable one.'

"Tch... not the best? You kind of put me the spot there." Orphea crossed her arms grumpily, even as they flew. A small pocket of snowflakes gathered immediately, threatening to push through her safe little bubble.

'That's just how leading works. Now, I think we're close.'

Orphea looked down, to see a half-frozen river. A sturdy but ramshackle bridge was constructed over the widest part, and if one looked over to either side then they would see some areas where the river became narrower, even freezing over entirely. Down below, Orphea spied some Horde scouts, no doubt waiting for the Alliance to cross the natural boundary, to fulfil that condition Thrall had laid down.

She sailed over them easily, coming into the Alliance territory. Down below there were well-beaten pathways, and the occasional pocket of troops that formed Alliance intelligence on that thin watery line. And in the distance, gryphons. Orphea had no doubt that she'd be spotted soon, and an aerial battle wasn't something she had any intention to fight. There was absolutely no way to aim to avoid death if people would fall two or three hundred metres when you knocked them down.

So, she calmly started to descend, knowing she'd been seen. And floated down to ground level after a minute, gliding along the main roadway. It was oddly tranquil for the middle of what she knew to be a demilitarised zone.

'Are you sure you know what you're doing? The Alliance tend to be far more competent and disciplined soldiers, as they lack the natural physical prowess of most Horde.' Osiris warned. 'They could easily decide to shoot on sight, since your affiliation is unknown.'

'I can stop a bullet. Or several, if I must.' Orphea responded, continuing to move along.

She got much further than she expected, before someone stopped her. A group of seven troops came running down the road at a jog, three carrying swords and shields at the front, three with rifles at the back, and one in the middle with an impressive magical staff.

"HALT!" Yelled the three swordsmen, as one. The unit got into a defensive formation that would have done an excellent job of protecting the mage in most situations, although she suspected this general formation would no doubt have exploitable weaknesses- and that that mage would be such a priority target the formation might find him killed first regardless.

Orphea drew to a neat halt, dropping to the floor. "Hail, soldiers!"

The unit got closer, eyeing Orphea with suspicion. She met their gaze calmly, careful not to make sudden moves. The frontline knights eventually spoke again. "Identify yourself, girl. This is not the kind of place for children to be."

Orphea nodded. "My name is Orphea. I am the heiress to Ravencourt, assuming Ravencourt survives the coming troubles. I carry no proof of identity, but I can display my family's signature magic, if that would satisfy you?"

The mage stepped forwards. "No need. I sense the shadowy powers you control, and accept your claims... but how did you travel through Horde territory? Ravencourt has maintained a neutral stance in this conflict thus far, and Orcs will broker no negotiations."

"They wished to execute me, but I was able to overcome a trial they set me, and won my freedom." Orphea knew she could lie, perhaps even convincingly. But she could become entangled in that lie all too easily when she went to pass on the message to the Alliance commander. "I... have also been given a message, though you might already know the contents. I'll pass it on to your commander, if you'll allow?"

The mage shook his head. "You will come with us. We need any knowledge you can provide of Horde positioning you can provide, regardless of another empty threat to destroy the Alliance. We'll bring you to General Vanndar, but be warned- any attempt to betray will end in your immediate death."

"Excellent. Lead the way, sirs and ma'ams." Orphea said politely and neutrally.

* * *

The unit walked into an orderly camp, with careful spacings between tents and many soldiers marching around. Orphea could see the differences between this and the Horde camp clearly. It was in more than the way buildings were set up and in what people wore- the atmosphere here was completely different. There were permanent structures built, notably a large keep before you reached the central camp. And there, there was a sea of tents, full of soldiers yet nearly empty in spirit.

The Horde seemed at home faced with the prospect of a bloody war to the death, while the Alliance faced it down with grim bravery. This camp was cold and felt temporary, with steely but battered nerves, while the Horde's was a place to live in.

One tent in the centre was larger than all the rest, with a neat gold trim amongst the rest of the blue tents, and a flying banner known across the multiverse. A golden lion, on an azure background. The unit marched up to the command tent, a few elite guards stepping aside. The swordsmen pushed the doors open.

"King Varian. Commander Vanndar. We found this girl, per the sightings." Announced the mage. "She is the heir to Ravencourt."

Orphea looked at the two men that had been poring over a table, now sizing her up. Varian drew her attention naturally. He was built like a lion, both lithe and muscled, quick and strong, agile and sturdy. His armor was of a fine design, with two elaborate shoulderpads and warm gloves and boots. A long scar crossed a rugged face, with a warm smile.

Vanndar was a dwarf with an experienced mien, and while wearing solid and impressive gear, he simply seemed pedestrian, compared to the man. But Orphea had no doubts he was every bit as strong and tough as his king.

"Greetings, your highness. I seek passage to King's Crest. I'll gladly provide you all I know of the Horde in repayment, as well as a message I was asked to pass along." Orphea maintained her politeness. Best to be plain and easy to get along with until you knew who you were talking to better.

"At ease, men." Varian said. "Thank you for co-operating. I won't impede your path, so long as you can be trusted. Take a seat." He gestured to a wooden chair, which Orphea drew back. As his hand moved, she saw the tip of another legendary weapon behind him- even if it wasn't known as well as Doomhammer, its' reputation preceded it. "So, how did you survive contact with the Horde? Humans are normally slaughtered."

"I was captured at first. One of their spirits warned them I would try to sneak past, and told them I could be used to solve a problem they had." Orphea explained. "I was told I would be allowed to go free if I slew a monster that had been troubling them, since they didn't have the men to spare. As you can see, I was successful."

"I see... So, what do you note of their defences?"

"Equally good as your own. Their building techniques may be dangerous, but I doubt you'd be able to push through easily. There are two layers of major fortifications on every safe route of approach by foot, although an elite team could slip through the forests or untrodden paths."

Varian nodded. "As we suspected... And who leads their defences?"

"Warchief Thrall. I've read stories of both of you- I'm sure I needn't introduce you both." Orphea said. "His closest general seems to be Drek'thar. I think he may have been native to Alterac before it was dragged to the Nexus, as he's not wearing anything on his chest."

"I see your point. And what's in that... bundle?" Varian looked at the package on Orphea's back.

"It's a family heirloom. In a manner of speaking. You'll understand if I don't want to unwrap it here?"

"Can you be more specific?" Varian pressed, shifting ever so slightly. Orphea wondered if he could quickdraw his sword faster than she could cast, before kicking the intrusive thought from her mind.

"My dead great-grandfather."

"...My condolences." Varian looked down a bit, though it seemed respectful rather than shamed. "I see the coffin's shape now."

Orphea put her hands on the table. "It's fine. I have a message, before I leave."

"What is it, and from who?"

"Thrall." Orphea saw Varian's face harden. "He warns that the river is the boundary line- if a soldier crosses it, then he cannot keep the peace."

Vanndar was the one to react, while Varian accepted the message silently. "Your highness, this is great news! If we can start this fight on our own terms, then we're more likely to win!"

Varian nodded. "That is a fair warning. And one I will break all too soon."

Orphea felt a twinge of shame. "...Is war unavoidable? You seem like good people, and the orcs were not entirely evil."

Varian's eyes were unsympathetic. "It is. The Horde and Alliance cannot know peace, after the chain of atrocities that have been committed." He moved around the table. "There is not a man, dwarf, elf or gnome who hasn't lost something to the Horde. And I doubt there is an Orc who hasn't suffered at our discretion. But I have my people, and I would never cede them to those who wish to bring them harm. So I will wage this war, for the good of my kindgom." He walked around the table. "I have no other questions to ask. Vanndar, can you think of anything?"

"None, milord. She's told us all we need." Confirmed Vanndar.

"Then you have my thanks for your help, Orphea. The Alliance wishes you luck in your journey." Varian came to a stop by Orphea's chair, and offered his hand.

Orphea took it, giving it a shake with her meager strength. "I hope you find a good future in the Nexus, King Varian."

She got up with a formal air, neatly placed her chair underneath the table, gave a short bow, and left the tent, before she walked from the camp quietly, ignoring the suspicious glances of the soldiers. It wasn't far at all to reach a steep slope that took her down a few metres, onto a long plain. A muddy road had been trekked into it, no doubt by the Alliance. All of it only served to feed the guilty spark in her heart, as she floated past all of it, like a detached observer.

"Grandfather... was I right? To do that?"

'To give them that information?'

"Mhm." Orphea frowned. "It's one thing to take a life- I have no problem killing anyone that has chosen to attack me or another. But... what I just did..." She shook her head. "I feel I may have contributed to something awful. Almost as horrid as my father's crime."

'...It is hard to judge an action such as that. But it is true, your information will cause untold orcs to die. While they wish death upon many humans, and our peoples seem fundamentally incompatible... wiping out entire peoples is extreme, no matter what. However.'

Orphea guessed at his next words. "If I hadn't told them, I could have been delayed. Reaching King's Crest as fast as possible is vital to the survival of the whole Nexus... and on a more ethically questionable level, my information may save human lives."

'I cannot absolve you of guilt for your actions, Orphea. They may well have consequences in the future. However, I would have done the same in your position.'

"Then let's make sure it's not in vain. Let's go." She tilted herself forwards, and put on a surge of speed, flying forwards and through the skies like a children's superhero, regardless of how conflicted she felt over her morality.

* * *

Flying through the clouds was a calculated risk. On one hand, it was dangerous to fly to her destination. The skies of the nexus were far from clear, filled with all manner of creatures and vehicles. Dragons, wyverns, gryphons, gargoyles, attack helicopters... though without many places capable of sourcing fuel, beasts were more common in the skies of the main realms of the Nexus. However, the clouds would provide her some concealment, and it was much faster to fly in a straight line. And the ground was hardly a safe haven either.

Of course, she wouldn't fall to her death if she lost a fight on the ground. She'd probably just bleed out on the side of the road instead. How dignified.

'Attention passenger, this is your captain speaking. Thank you for flying raven airways, please be advised there are two familiar magic signatures below. Osiris out.'

'Just because you're bored...' Orphea looked at the forest below. While Ravencourt's was dimmed and damp, eerie at most times too, this forest was full of oak trees, long grasses, and generally looked luscious in the sunlight. Although said sun was decidedly too hot and bright for Orphea. And she could swear she'd get sunburn if she did so much as looked up.

Her mind could sense the presences too. They were familiar, but they took a moment to place.

"Arcane golems. Animated by Dead Magic..? They must be here for me." She said, watching as they picked through the forest quickly.

'Ah, I suppose you don't recognise them as clearly as I do.' Osiris noted. 'They're the ones that used to guard the seal on the Dark Nexus. I've been staring at them for about a thousand years.'

"If they're under my father's command, they may have fallen to corruption. I think it would only be respectful to take a second to assassinate them."

'You don't have time to waste, you know...'

"I sense a traveller down there. If they don't take kindly to him, they'll execute him. That, and they may come back to cause trouble for me later." Orphea reasoned.

'Very well. I shall leave the strategy to you, as an excercise.'

Orphea flew overhead for a short while, calculating distances and spells, dredging up her emotions and stirring them until she felt ready to burst into tears. She saw the traveller she'd sensed- an elderly man in a robe, with a large staff. He was bending over to pick something up... Orphea floated into position slowly, picking out a gap in the trees... Oh. Crap. They saw the old man.

She shot down like a rocket, landing behind them with a thud. "Afternoon, gentlemen. Lovely place for a walk here, although something tells me you're not here to relieve some stress."

The two golems turned around in unison, drawing huge steel swords.

Orphea flashed a perfect smile, and set off at a run. It shouldn't take too long to prepare an offensive spell... She bolted through the trees on foot, doing everything she could to be a believably catchable target. As she ran, she hopped over the odd root or had to dance around some thorns and brambles, as she concentrated her power into what should be an instantly fatal blast...

"They're catching up!"

'Orphea, you're thirteen and your exercise has mostly been ballet. Why is that a surprise?'

But they were faster than her. Smashing through roots, brambles not scratching them whatsoever. Gaining on her far faster than she intended!

With a flash of focused emotional pain, she did an acrobatic backflip, forming her spiky tendril whip mid-flip and slamming it into the eyes of her closest pursuer, dashing to one side and hiding behind a tree. From here, she could double back on them and use the time they were distracted to finish charging her magic bolt.

They ran straight past, and Orphea peeked around the tree. And realised she'd led them in a neat little loop. She heard two loud, echoing voices ring out.

"She vanished!" "You there!"

Osiris chipped in. 'Remember that innocent traveller?'

Orphea bit her lip to avoid cursing out loud. "Not good."

Bother, they were holding that old man off the ground.

"Where is she?!" Boomed a golem, as the man quaked.

"I beg your pardon?" Stuttered the man, as his robe dug into thin arms. He could only watch in horror as the second golem stamped the floor, and a magical haze gave way to four gemstones warping in.

Orphea stopped in horror. The magic she felt from them was almost pure chaos, but tainted with malice and bloodthirst. If these were all Dark Nexus beings, then she could easily be killed here and now, never mind the old man! But as they sprouted stony limbs and bodies that floated in the air, they seemed to be mere dogs. Dangerous, but she could try her luck.

And try it she would. That life wasn't of her kingdom, but it was innocent to her.

"Give us the girl!" Roared the first golem again, as the wave of dark canines closed in.

Orphea ran around the side, lining up her palm as best she could.

"This must be some mistake, I haven't seen a girl here!" His grip on his staff seemed to be slackening in the pain being picked up like that was causing him, but Orphea admired his calm. And loosed her bolt of energy.

A beam of purplish light pierced two of the doglike Dark Nexus beings, and blew the arms off the golem holding the man. He fell to the floor roughly, as all attention turned to her.

She gave a little wave. "Let me clear this up." She walked forwards, levitating a little and making a show of curtsying, a thin trail of Dead Magic following her fingertip. "I'm Orphea."

The old man had the presence of mind to run past her, to relative safety, hobbling on his staff. "A-and I am Deckard Cain!" His hands fell to a bag on his side. "These men are searching for you?"

"You might say I burned some bridges." The remaining two dogs ran at Orphea, shining with crimson light, and she placed a bolt of magic between the eyes of each with surgical precision.

"Allow me to help." Deckard pulled out a scroll, tapping the writing on the front as the two golems rounded on them. It seemed to explode into golden light, and Orphea saw both of them stop dead in their tracks, feet bound to the floor.

"The Raven Lord will not tolerate any more of your insolence!" Shouted a golem as it struggled against the binding magic placed upon it.

"Is that right?" Orphea gave a tiny theatrical sigh and smile, easily mustering up the Dread for her finishing blow. Her face then hardened, eyes glowing an equal red with chaos, and she pointed a hand forwards. "He ought to be used to it by now."

"You vile little traito-" With a neat shing, a set of spikes shattered the golems to pieces, before the Dread faded.

Deckard was left leaning on his staff sorely, breathing heavily. "That... was the last of them."

Orphea lowered her hand, feeling oddly satisfied at all the stone fragments on the floor. "For the moment. We should get moving." She noticed Deckard bend down, picking something up. Was that... She raised her eyebrows. A rare find indeed. "Ah, a singularity shell."

Deckard had been about to put it in his bag, but his face lit up with curiosity. "What is it?"

"Every realm has one. Claiming it will make you the realm lord." So, this man was a spatial echo too... Perhaps he'd been a scholar, or a scientist before reaching the Nexus? Orphea could see all manner of scrolls on her person now that she could take a good look. And as she looked, she noticed something about the metallic casing Deckard held. "But this singularity died with its' land, long ago."

"How can a realm die?" He asked, looking at her intently.

"There are many ways." Orphea replied, recent examples coming to her mind. "Chaos, destruction, war..." An idea leapt into her mind unbidden. It would be sensible to warn this land of the coming danger. "Let me show you something..."

Osiris raised a nonexistent eyebrow. 'Orphea, what are you..?'

She concentrated, weaving together a scrying spell- one with the ability to look across an immense distance for a short period of time. And throwing her hands out to either side, she summoned a massive vision facing Alterac. "The Raven Lord has summoned the Dark Nexus over there, across the borders."

She was shaken by what she saw herself. The purplish clouds she'd known all her life were now a deep red, and a torrent of chaos magic was flowing from her tower, the lands being torn to shreds and consumed... It couldn't be this bad. It couldn't have gotten this bad so quickly!

Deckard too seemed to understand what he was seeing. "Such evil... someone must stop them!"

Orphea shook her head, heart growing heavier every moment she watched the destruction unfurl across the land she'd lived for. "No. This is just the beginning. We should run."

Deckard thumped his staff on the ground, looking at Orphea's scrying image determinedly. "If we do not fight for the dawn, it can never come. Is there nobody who can help us?"

Nice to see he'd already decided they were in this together. Orphea could see how this man might end up making a cosmic difference, his echo joining the legends of the multiverse. "Well, maybe...

"If we had an army."


	12. Chapter 9: Mind Devourer

Orphea had expected Deckard to see her dire warnings, and leave to spread them. Instead, he'd taken out a scroll, like the one that had fixed her father's golems in place, and opened a portal. And one of remarkable quality too- the edges were more stable than any other temporary gate Orphea had seen.

"Come with me me, miss Orphea. I know someone you may be able to speak to about this." Deckard gestured to the portal, before stepping through with some difficulty.

'It could be a trap.' Warned Osiris.

'Unlikely. I don't detect any kind of ill intent. And he IS someone whose actions were enough to create a dimensional ripple. That's normally indicative of either great good or evil.' Orphea reasoned internally, before she walked through the Town Portal.

The other side of the gateway was a neat slate-floor courtyard, cut and sanded to an expert balance of smooth but just rough enough to avoid anyone slipping. Small golden metal pins fixed the path in place, although they surely had to be brass or some chaper metal. Acquiring enough gold for the whole courtyard would have easily thrown even her father into financial turmoil. As her eyes turned upwards, there were walls of white stone, hung with flowing baskets of rosebushes, some carved with murals of dragons, and the rooftops of a town beyond. It all seemed blindingly bright in clear overhead sunlight.

And as she finally looked forwards, she saw the castle. For a few seconds, Orphea was lost for words as she tried to compare the size of the building to something familiar. Her family's tower might have been taller, and it indeed had expansive floors, but this castle was... colossal. The gatehouse before her had doors that could have served as the entire hull of a warship. Stone walls that bridged out to either side for a distance unknown seemed to suggest this castle was an enormous hexagon, all of them inlaid with countless windows.

'Ah. Castle Dragonheart. I see they've chosen some new flowers for the wall baskets.' Osiris noted.

'Castle Dragonheart?! Then we must be-' Orphea's eyes widened.

"Ah, I see you are impressed by the architecture." Deckard was standing over to the side, and with a small wave of his hand the portal vanished, returning to a scroll that he filed away with a craftsman's precision. "I too was awed at this building. More so, that the people within understood that I had been taken from my world. I would be glad to introduce you to them."

"Thank you, Deckard. That's a great help." Orphea felt her entire being radiant with heat, squinting in the sunlight. "Can... we move into the shade? I think I'm burning."

They walked across the courtyard. This place seemed like such a fairytale building... the size, the construction, the cleanliness... but Orphea was swiftly reminded life was no fairytale, as she saw a set of knights in full plate mail standing in front of the giant doors, all armed with poleaxes.

Deckard raised a hand in greeting. "Hello, warriors."

"Back so soon, Master Cain?" The lead guard eyed Orphea suspiciously. "I sense dark magic around her. Are you certain you wish to bring her into the castle?"

"She has come with a warning of a great peril."

Orphea folded her hands. "I'd offer to disarm, but I can't exactly cut my own head off. And no, that isn't an invitation."

The head guard stood straighter, looking down his nose at her. "We will have to warn you, young warlock; we do not take kindly to anyone who would dare bring dark magic into our blessed kingdom! We are the most elite guardsmen a rat like you will ever lay eyes on, so I suggest you leave your message with master Cain and- Yow!" He stumbled back, the wooden staff making a metallic clang on his chestplate.

Deckard coughed, and put the staff he'd merely tapped the head guard with back down. "Do not think your bluffing is enough to fool anyone. And I personally vouch that she must come inside, and have audience with Queen Raena. This is a matter beyond any of us!"

The rest of the guards snickered at the head guard, as he went four different shades of red. "...Fine! Fine! Take her in, if you must. But if she misbehaves, then only an order from the King himself will stop me keeping such vile magics away from the Queen!"

"Thank you." Deckard brushed past, making his way towards a smaller door on the side of the giant one.

Orphea noted everyone had stopped laughing at the mention of the King. "I'm sure you'll find me more refined than your undisciplined self." She looked the guard up and down. "Your form is sloppy. You pay too little attention to both your surroundings AND your visitors. Your lance hasn't been properly sharpened. And if I may add, your attitude isn't up to standard. I have to say, you make a rather poor first impression to a foreign ambassador."

The man looked like he was about to pop a blood vessel, up until the words 'foreign ambassador' crossed Orphea's lips. Then he went as white as a sheet remarkably quickly, leaving Orphea to slip past and pursue Deckard.

'Heh. You ought to keep your tongue under tighter control, Orphea. Some guards might have refused to let you pass after that insult.'

'I consider myself a reasonable judge of character.' Orphea ran along into the castle before she could lose sight of Deckard. Inside was a hallway with a desk, and a man standing behind with a jacket.

Deckard already seemed to be done speaking with them. "I've booked audience with Queen Raena and her council. You are most fortunate that you arrived today, as they are not open to outside speakers at all times." He stretched an arm, a popping noise following. "...Come, they cannot recieve us for several hours. Let us wait in the garden, and plan how best to make our point."

Orphea tentatively followed, sure to make her posture and pose as perfect as she could. This was the job she'd always trained for- meeting other leaders, to convince them to give her what she needed. This place seemed to first require a well-mannered approach, rather than the open strength of the Horde or co-operation of the Alliance. She followed Deckard as he went past the desk, across the gatehouse. The other end had another immense set of doors to match the first, and a small one on the side they stepped through.

Orphea saw that this castle was indeed a hexagonal building, with walls thicker than the houses of most normal people. The inner gardens were another huge hexagon- a path led from the gatehouse up to a statue of a sitting dragon, and as they walked past Orphea saw the pathway branch off into three directions, one leading straight to the far end of the castle, the other two going around the sides.

And there was the clatter of metal on metal.

"Fighting?!" Orphea looked around quickly, a hand at the ready, about to conjure a spell.

A nearby guard called over, far nicer than the first. "Ah, you must be new here. Prince Verick is sparring in the centre of the garden. You are free to observe, guests."

Orphea looked up to Deckard. "The prince..? Deckard, what do you know of him?" She lowered her voice. "Maybe I could learn something helpful."

Deckard kept walking along slowly. "Prince Verick Dragonheart, the prince of King's Crest and rightful successor to the throne." He started. "The eldest born child of King Buchwald and Queen Raena, he is currently nineteen years old, and serving as the general of the armies in order to prepare him for his role as king, after the untimely demise of King Buchwald. He shows some promise, for his just, kind and true nature, and sheer willpower... but..." Deckard looked around. "Some find him lacking. He can be brash and insensitive, and is not an outstanding liar- many fear his court will slip from his grasp." He cleared his throat. "He is known to prefer to contribute indirectly, by supporting the frontlines. I would consider him a strong warrior, although his fighting style can reflect his personality."

"That tells me a lot." Orphea nodded, slotting the pieces of that puzzle together as they walked through the gardens. The sound of swordfighting grew louder, accompanied by shouts and grunts. They walked through a small stone wall, pushing a metal gate open, to see the source of the noise.

A man in a fancy red jacket was gripping a thin rapier, on a constant aggressive push against an enemy in full armor. His strikes were far faster than his opponent, but he occasionally made a skilful parry to prevent his enemy gaining any momentum. With a fast couple of jabs he poked holes in the enemy's guard, although it seemed he was using a training sword as Orphea noted no blood spread over his foe's jacket. He stepped back a bit, and wiped his brow. She walked closer, seeing his short blond hair and a solid jaw.

"You are improving, prince Verick!" Called his opponent, as they stepped back. "Soon you will be able to stand amongst us soldiers, and... Ah, it seems you've guests."

Orphea watched Verick turn around, neatly slipping the rapier into his belt. "Good day, Master Cain. Who's this? Your niece?"

Deckard chuckled. "As nice as that would be... for now, this is a guest, here on my trust. We've come with a message to present to Queen Raena."

"Niece? I don't think you'd know what you're getting into there." Orphea said lightly, before looking to Verick. "I'm Orphea. I think it would be good for us to become acquainted, as fellow heirs."

Verick's look became confused for a moment, and he leaned over to the nearest guard and whispered "Who is she?" sheepishly.

"I can hear you." Orphea grinned her very best imposing grin. "If you'd prefer a longer introduction, I am Orphea, heiress to Ravencourt, she who will inherit the singularity and ability to rule, and guardian of the Dark nexus."

"Ah! Knew I'd heard of you before!" Verick grinned back, although his was full of awkward warmth. "Sorry, I've never seen you before so I thought you'd be... uh..." He coughed. "...taller?"

"It's no worry." Orphea crossed her arms. "I did always think the prince of our land's largest rival would be far more serious."

Verick rubbed the back of his head. "Hey, I can do serious. Just..."

"Not very well?" Interjected another voice. A woman that was wearing blue plate mail, covered in dragon-wing designs walked over. "Hello, Lady Orphea. I'm Verick's sister, Delia."

Orphea studied her for a moment, committing equally blonde but far silkier hair and a smooth face to memory. "Pleasure to meet you. I don't intend to stay long, only to pass on my message to your mother. Then I'll have to go back, and protect my people."

"We welcome you nonetheless. What does this message concern?" Delia asked politely.

Orphea looked around. "I think it would be best kept secret until I can consult with the queen. I hear you have a troublesome council..?" She worded her question carefully, watching as Delia pieced together an equally careful answer.

Verick of course, sprung into action, trying to be helpful. "Yeah, they're awful. Six senators, the queen, and the king. Five of the others can veto the King's will, unless we're at war. But without the king, then then it's six senators that are all vying for power, and doing everything that they can to get that power, while only the queen actually does anything helpful for the country. Unfortunately, they can also veto anything she wants to do, and they do, because they want to try and big themselves up to the public. So... yeah, I kind of need to marry someone and become the king pronto."

"Hmm... Well, okay." Orphea put her hands together sweetly. "I'll be on my way, then."

"Please, you are free to watch us train." Delia almost seemed to counter.

"I have work to do, unlike some people." Orphea glanced around, spotting a shady area around the other end of the massive garden. "I suppose I'll see you later." She jogged off, before any further argument could be made.

* * *

Hours passed. Orphea prepared her speech, the key points she needed to make, ways to shout down any potential councilmember who would try and shut down the queen... another scrying spell too. She straightened all her clothing, and gave her hair some much needed care, although it still screamed for a shower and conditioner. And Deckard guided her into the huge building, the main tower of the hexagonal castle.

They were of course, immediately stopped by a few guards, and one man in a smart waistcoat that somehow looked absolutely horrendous, despite being a relatively plain fashion statement.

"Your companion isn't on the list, Master Cain."

"Oh, my ward? Take no notice of her, she will keep to herself." Cain's acting skills seemed to have suddenly quadrupled, although Orphea was deeply glad for the chance to skip any arguing and cut to the chase. Red tape was a horrible thing, even if it was necessary.

Though she also couldn't ignore the distasteful glare the doorkeep was giving her, looking away with a scowl at her current inability to verbally destroy him. "Hmph."

He opened the door, and Deckard walked through with all the strength he could muster, into the throne room.

Orphea followed, and looked over the heart of this realm. An expansive chamber with a high ceiling, and massive windows set into every smooth wall, scenes detailed into the coloured glass and flooding the room in warm red and soothing blue hues. Two huge pillars were set up either side of the room, seemingly of well-stacked rocks bound together by thorny vines, blooming into leafy plants at the top of each. Senators and other men and women of political importance lined the edges of the room, almost seeming to ignore Deckard, and certainly ignoring her. Orphea noticed there was one pillar they were standing away from... and she could feel something from that pillar, too.

A woman's voice carried out through the low chatter, clear and focused. "Who else has requested an audience?"

Orphea's attention was drawn to the back of the room. There were two thrones, of huge curved design, and between them an altar rose high into the air, topped with none other than the singularity of King's Crest. One throne was empty, and on the other sat the woman who had spoken, in white robes and gloves, with an elegant purple cloak. She could only be Queen Raena.

The doorman raised his voice, as the senators fell silent. "Deckard Cain, The Lady Of Thorns will hear you now!"

Deckard walked forwards slowly. "I come with dire tidings."

Orphea cautiously followed him, all too aware that this could play out poorly for them. But as she walked past one of the pillars, she saw exactly why nobody was standing near it. There, embedded into the column, was a shard of some kind of crystal. It burned with a chaotic light, radiating a miasma of dangerous energy in a small bubble around itself. And she recognised the power instantly. That of the Dark Nexus.

She turned her attention back to Deckard, as he gave his explanation. "The Raven Lord has unleashed a terrible threat. The Dark Nexus... it has already overwhelmed Ravencourt, and will soon spread across all the lands."

A senator started shouting. "We have our own problems, old fool! We can scarce afford to make a charity for our long-time enemies!"

Orphea stepped up to Deckard's side. "Queen Raena!"

Raena's eyes didn't let even a hint of surprise past. "Speak."

"That shard in your column- when and how was it placed there?!" Orphea looked around the room, trying to gauge whether anyone would shut her down.

One woman jumped to that. "It's none of your business, girl! an official secr-"

"Silence." Raena's voice carried. "It is merely not news we have seen to spread, Mae. I see no harm in telling her." Raena looked at the pillar. "It appeared five days ago, before our very eyes. None of our mages have been able to remove it, and it burned a man's hand off on contact."

Orphea nodded. "I recognise it's magic, and the timing aligns with the opening of the Dark Nexus. I'm unsure how it came to rest here, but that crystal is a tiny fragment from the realm we had been keeping sealed." She looked back. "I wager you've not tried dark magics? Your kingdom isn't known for them. If you wish, I can remove it from the pillar."

"Very well... Senators, please stand away."

The crowd moved back from the pillar, as Orphea walked up. She could see now that the fragment looked like part of an isocahedron, or a twenty-sided dice. And the power around it... she could swear she heard roaring, felt something tug on her heart calling to rip and tear... but it wasn't going to penetrate her own expertise. Some purple energy roiled inside the gem's red aura, and Orphea reached out, suppressing and nullifying the danger, before placing a hand on the shard and pulling it out of the wall.

Orphea held it forwards in her open palm. "This is why you must act now. The chaos of that realm will consume you ALL, regardless of where you hide, regardless of how you struggle individually... it needs to be sealed again, or we will all die." The shard crackled with red-purple energy, and Orphea drew it back, slipping it into her pocket.

Deckard nodded. "In no more than a week, The Dark Nexus has already scarred the lands, and left a path of destruction. We can fight back, or perish."

One of the senators, an astoundingly fat man with a reasonably good mustache scoffed. "And why should we trust this is no elaborate hoax?!"

"That is ENOUGH." Raena's voice carried out. "Their information matches everything our spies report, everything our contacts in the alliance know, and I strongly doubt that the choas magic in the shard could have come from anywhere else. I will declare a state of emergency, unless one of you can disprove their claim here and now!"

Dead silence followed. Orphea smiled.

"Guards, courtiers- leave us." Raena said. "There are matters I must discuss in private. As of now, we are under a state of emergency, and I expect you all to make preparations as if we were to go to war against Ravencourt. Am I clear?"

"..." The rest of the room started to file out, and in moments it had emptied. The last pair of guards shut the doors behind themselves, and a magical seal glowed on them.

Raena stood, and started to walk down from her throne. With every step, her face and demeanor became a little warmer and more personable, less of a detached ruler and more of a mother. "You have caused quite the commotion, Master Cain."

Deckard looked sheepish. "I, ah, meant only to warn you of the coming danger!"

"I know it well, but my control of this court hangs by a thread." Raena smiled softly and sadly. "They are loyal only to my husband."

"The king? I... I was aware he had vanished, but why do they all hold onto hope? Surely they recognise you as the leader in his stead?" Orphea said inquisitively, fishing for information.

"He is not... truly dead." Raena shook her head. "Merely sealed. My husband was a fine king, until the curse claimed him." She turned, and gestured to the window behind the thrones, showing a huge dragon with two warriors either side binding it. Orphea noticed instantly there was a man in a smart red jacket with a sword, and a blue-armoured girl with a lance. "...And so his body was turned to stone. We sealed him to try and find a cure for the curse, but..."

"I am sorry." Orphea said. "I didn't come here to dredge up bad memories."

"It seems I am to be next, in truth. Nothing I have done has cured my own curse." Raena peeled back her left glove.

Orphea's eyes widened as she saw rocks spreading along the arm, thorns woven in amongst cracks.

"If I cannot save even myself or my husband, the help I can provide you will be insufficient. With such limited time, I have to make sure my people aren't doomed when I am claimed."

Deckard nodded. "But you can protect them best by focusing on this threat, Lady Queen."

"He speaks the truth. And my father's knights have already attacked travelers within your borders." Orphea added, watching Raena's reaction. "...Yes. I believe you know who I am." She slipped the crystal back out of her pocket, radiant with chaos energy. "Orphea, at your service."

Raena nodded. "I had my suspicions. It would have taken very powerful magic to remove that crystal safely, and you didn't struggle at all. Alongside your mysterious package, and my own expertise... I knew it was either you, or an assassin that believes that wearing robes means I am unprotected. So, the situation must be poor enough for the heir to our greatest rival lands to come begging for aid."

Orphea shook her head. "However bad you may think it is, it's worse than that. My father is not dead, only corrupted. He may still have some tactical senses, and the skill to command the Dark Nexus intelligently- even if his intentions are malicious. He's going to aim to wipe you out, and he'll start by conquering Alterac. If he gains control there, then breaking the fortifications in the pass will be impossible, and he'll be inaccessible to your army."

"Fear not." Raena stood straight. "I won't see another land fall into his hands, not after the Haunted Mines. King's Crest should not know that peril. You have my word I will do everything I can, Heiress Orphea." She offered her hand. Orphea took it and shook once. A verbal promise was only worth as much as the honour behind it.

But Osiris had been here before. 'Good thing this land places such importance on integrity.'

Raena turned to Deckard. "And you, Master Cain... you must come with me. I will need your intelligence."

"I would be honored, my Lady." Deckard placed a weak hand over his heart.

"Good." Raena moved over, gently brushing the top of Orphea's head with her gloved hands. Something stirred in Orphea. Something she'd almost never known, quivering and soft. It reminded her of Neeve, on rare occasion. "As for your 'ward', she can stay as long as she wants. If you desire to reveal your identity, I will arrange an announcement."

Orphea shook her head. "Trust me, as long as I want to stay is as long as it takes to mobilise troops."

Raena put a hand on her shoulder. "I'll have the servants prepare you a room to stay in for a few weeks, then. Preparing our war machine is no mean feat."

"Put out a call for aid. Heroes will answer, and you need immediate forces." Suggested Orphea.

Raena nodded. "My thoughts exactly. Until we are ready to move out, however... I would gladly host you as a guest. Please, make yourself acquainted with my children. It could make a great difference in the future."


	13. Chapter 10: Eternal Feast

Orphea was glad for the chance to properly rest. Now that she'd finally passed on her warnings and managed to secure aid with minimal struggle, everything just seemed to catch up to her.

Five days. Had it really only been five days?

It felt like a year ago she was running away from the tower...

She stumbled a bit as she was guided through the corridors of the castle. If she didn't know better, she'd have thought Raena secretly hit her with a sleep spell. She made it to her new room, opened the door, took four long steps, and fell down onto the bed face-first.

She'd pushed herself to the limit, and held herself there for five days. Every muscle in her body seemed to turn to liquid, her blood heavy as metal. Her head throbbed and threatened to blossom into another gargantuan headache.

'Don't let your guard down. Raena may appear friendly, but we are now in the hands of our oldest enemies. They could well decide to eliminate you, leaving Ravencourt and it's territories open to conquest.'

'Grandfather... We don't have much choice but to trust them. If I want to have any influence on how this invasion is handled, I have to...'

She yawned a yawn so powerful it even interrupted her thoughts. She blearily registered that the bedsheets were a soft amber colour. How strange. Nobody wore amber back home, the dyes were... so...

She lifted her head off the plush sheets. It was dark outside. With another yawn, she managed to stand up. There were no clocks around the room, now that she actually looked. It had a bed in one corner, the amber sheets ruffled with an impression of her torso. On the other side was a desk that Orphea was personally charmed by, made of a dark, sturdy-looking wood with a few elegant carvings. Between the two, a large window, with equally large curtains.

And as she turned, she noticed there was a small secondary room with a sink- oh, they had proper plumbing. Thank goodness. Perhaps Ravencourt wasn't the only place to take some of the best pieces of technology for it's own. Those plumbing pipes connected to a small bathtub as well, with a small vial of something purple on the side... and a note?

Orphea walked over, and noticed a small piece of paper tied around the bottle with string, glancing over the message: I noticed you were in rough shape, and I know how annoying it can be for a girl to go around looking that way. If you need to borrow makeup, see me. -Delia.

"Grandfather? Er... Was I sleeping, then?"

'Only for six hours.'

Orphea's lips tightened a little. "That's... unacceptable. To just fall asleep without knowing everything has been done. What kind of realm lord-"

'Hush, girl... you needn't be that harsh on yourself. For now, I think you'd better clean yourself up, and then you can get to work waiting for things to happen. Things are out of your hands, at least for now.'

"...You're right, of course." Orphea went and turned one of the taps. "Wait. You... shouldn't be allowed to see me when I..."

'Worry not. There are many other things in this castle that I need to eavesdrop on. I'll return my spirit to the coffin in an hour, so don't take too long a soak.'

* * *

Feeling clean was like a rebirth, one that cleansed the wear and grime of the past few days of flying and rough sleep. Orphea felt like a goddess, albeit a strongly lavender-scented one. Delia's bath gel could have masked a bloodbath. Given that she wore armor and carried a spear, perhaps that was the intent. Orphea had no doubts the royal children would have been tutored by the finest warriors money could buy, if this place was to be taken seriously.

And her hair was finally back in order, too. A neat white shell, the same plaster shade as her skin.

So now, she walked the halls of the castle, acting the part of a young, curious girl exploring. And she was a young, curious girl exploring. But with ulterior motives, like knowing the castle layout if she had to escape. It was late, and she hadn't eaten all day, but she barely felt hungry. Just a little weak, as she wandered the halls.

"Lost?" A man's voice called.

Orphea turned, to see Verick standing there, in his neat red waistcoat. She answered with politely feigned surprise. "Hm? Merely exploring."

"Ah, good luck. The only people who were around to see all the secret passages built into this castle are the dragons." Verick smiled. "My mum let me know you were our guest until the armies could mobilise. So... anything you need me to do, as your host?"

"We'll start with treating me like an able woman, rather than a helpless child. I work hard to earn my assets." Orphea said curtly.

"Hah! Well, how about this then." Verick seemed to take in good humor. "You're the heir to immense dark magic, right?"

"Dead Magic. It is a family style that exists as a blend of dark magic, chaos magic, and necromancy." Orphea explained, waving a single hand gracefully, a thin purple material seeming to exist in the air for a few seconds.

"Is it safe for sparring? I know some spells can't be made to hold back, but we have some charms and healers."

"You'd like to fight?"

"Oh, not me." Verick put his hands up in mock surrender. "This blade's not worth much in my hands, just about the only strategy I can work is a full offensive. Delia, though..."

Useful information. Knowing the strong and weak points of people you would either end up fighting against or alongside. "She's the brawn, you're the brains then?"

"..." Verick made a face. "Nah, it's a bit more nuanced than that. Her White Magic isn't as good as mine, and while it's true I can handle myself in court or affairs of state, she can definitely be crafty. She's a lot better at calming people down, where I can rile them up. I guess it's part of that whole sun-moon thing we have. Normally if one of us has a weakness, the other covers it."

"But once you become king, won't that leave gaps in your skills?" Orphea reasoned, leaning back against the wall casually.

"That's my mother's worry too. But just because I don't excel at something, it doesn't mean I'm awful." Verick responded. "So anyway, would you like to spar with my sister? Assuming your magic is safe for that."

"...Why not? But not right now." Orphea said with a smile. "Oh, I have a question, if you wouldn't mind?"

"Speak your mind."

"What could you tell me about your kingdom's dragons..?"

The chat continued into the night, as Orphea built up her knowledge of the kingdom and its' assets, and generally picked information from her unguarded host.

* * *

Two days had passed.

Orphea sat in the shade of the garden, the wrapped coffin strapped to her back. Before her, the royal guard trained. While most were assigned to protect the castle as they ought, there was a daily rota for battling the prince and princess as training.

'Now, watch her move carefully.' Orphea's eyes tracked the sparring couple, as the blonde in blue armour beat the daylights out of a guard. 'Devise strategies that can counter the moves they teach her now.'

Delia's lance style was an all-around method that Orphea had noticed was absolutely stellar against anyone in melee range. While that would of course leave a glaring weakness to these little things called guns that could maybe hit you at a distance. And small metal pellets going hundreds of miles an hour would do a lot of damage if they came into contact with any flesh.

Delia countered those through two critical things. The first was the fact her armour had enough enchantments against ranged attacks that Orphea was reasonably confident it could have deflected a boulder the size of that huge dragon statue she was sitting in the shade of. The second was that she practiced fighting on horseback as much as she practiced fighting on foot. Perhaps mounting made her a little less able to strike with her weapon, and a little worse at guarding herself, but the mobility would more than make up for it if Delia utilised it properly.

For now, Orphea watched as she knocked someone's sword from thier hands, and then jabbed hard enough to dent their shield with her blunt training spear, and topped it all off by kicking them in the chest hard enough to floor them.

"Who else will challenge me?!" Delia shouted, flourishing her lance into an upright, attentive position.

"Go on. Now's your chance to really introduce yourself." Verick said, sitting next to Orphea. "You've only really spoken in passing, and Delia will have a bit more free time now, with her master riding exam out of the way. Make a good impression."

Orphea sighed with mock reluctance. "Alright... alright. Prepare a heal, just in case she walks into more of an attack than intended."

"I'm quite confident in my sister." Verick smiled lightly, with an undertone of overconfidence.

"Hey." Orphea called out. "...I'll spar with you."

Delia blinked. "You? You're..." She looked up and down Orphea. "I can only assume a dark mage. You're certain you can keep up with me?"

"Reasonably so." Orphea shrugged. "First to land a strike, since I don't intend to hurt you permanently."

"Hm." Delia twirled her lance once, catching it in her hands, holding it ready to jab. "Ready?"

Orphea nodded.

Delia didn't speak another word, darting forwards at full speed. Orphea knew her attack plan in exactly 0.3 seconds, and had an answer at the exact same time as her grandfather.

Orphea's answer was a wave of Dread, the spikes sure to slow Delia's approach and possibly ensnare her enough to land a hit, ending the round immediately.

Osiris' answer was to physically manifest under Delia's foot.

The lancer went flying through the air, crashing to the ground. Orphea pulled her magic back as fast as she could, before any serious spikes shot up from the ground.

"Ugh... what kind of trick was that?" Delia sprung to her feet, a few scratches on her front.

The manifested mouth floated up from the floor behind them, making a deeply grating high-pitched laugh.

Orphea stuck out a hand and concentrated on dispelling the manifestation, although she could detect her grandfather's mirth even through this small spell. "Stop it, you're embarrassing both of us!" She whispered under her breath. With a bit more magical force, she locked the floating mouth's magic source tight, and it evaporated.

"...Well." Delia raised an eyebrow. "Somewhat underhanded."

"However, not every enemy you fight will be fair and honourable." Orphea countered quickly, changing her tone in a flash. "You only have one life, so best not take chances."

"I don't think you're in a good place to try and lecture me on philosophy." Delia stooped and grabbed her lance. "Fight me properly this time."

"All right, I'll give you your proper duel. But you'd better take that lesson about 'fair' fighting." Orphea crossed her arms haughtily, looking out of the corner of her eye. 'Grandfather, don't try anything this time. I need practice too.'

'Ah, if you must... It was funny watching her little act fall apart in a second, wasn't it?'

'Hush.'

"Ready?" Delia was in the same stance as before. "I won't take the humiliation lightly, even if I don't resent the loss."

"Well then, you may attempt to redeem your pride now." Orphea tapped a foot on the floor.

Delia started walking forwards, alert for Orphea's move. The mage threw a small bolt of energy to test the water, sure that if she accidentally killed the princess then things would take a sharp turn for the worse. Delia deflected it with ease, and then swept in to jab at Orphea. With a quick skip, Orphea moved to the side, staying just out of range of the tip of the weapon, and then firing two more small bolts of energy either side of Delia, aiming to cut down her room to move.

Delia lunged forwards and ducked down to get into a steady stance, before bringing her weapon up in a swift arc that intercepted the line of purple matter Orphea was bringing down the centre of the little entrapment, pressing forwards to try and kick her.

Orphea scooted back just a little instead of the full distance her anguish would have provided, an unintended side effect of using the attack with reduced size and power. The kick nearly connected. And Delia was going to press her into a corner at this rate... unacceptable. Time to turn the tables.

Delia's stance came in useful as Orphea went on a sudden direct assault, barraging her with small attacks and nimble strikes with the almost ribbonlike tendril. She didn't dodge everything, deflecting as much as she could, outright blocking some- although it seemed to do as much damage to her weapon as a real piece of steel. She starting looking for her chance to counterattack...

Orphea knew Delia was biding her time. Her attacks might appear to have been keeping her foe busy, but any fighter worth their salt knew you couldn't stay defensive forever unless your opponent was really tiring themselves out. But Delia's counterattack would be the perfect opportunity. So she just held her attack on the left for a moment, sure the gap could be exploited.

Delia saw it and sprung like a steel trap. That tiny gap she could squeeze through to end the battle in one quick stroke! Her weapon flashed through the air, an inch from the target and-

And with a low-power blast, Orphea hit Delia squarely in the side, just under her armpit. The bolt shocked through the target, and Delia lost enough momentum for Orphea to dodge.

Orphea skipped back once, and did a little pirouette into a small bow, keeping her eyes on Delia. "Is that what you were hoping to get?"

Delia kept a hand under her arm, feeling around for damage. "...Not bad. Not bad for your age, especially."

"Tch, bringing age into things?" Orphea's face was somewhere between snarky and deadpan.

"Well. As a sign of respect." Delia brushed herself off. "You must have been training for a while, no?"

"...You're not wrong. Maybe we could talk more, later? I wouldn't want to interrupt." Orphea stepped back. "Oh, and Verick! Please heal your sister before she tries fighting again."

* * *

A week passed.

Orphea looked at the small gathering in the throne room. Half-naked woman? Expected. Anything could be used as armour with the right enchantments, so why not distract your enemies with your incredible self-confidence?

Half-naked man? Unheard of. What? How? Never before had anyone exposed a male nipple as part of combat gear (unless you counted orcs, barbarians, or wrestlers). Although, significantly more confusing was the fact Orphea couldn't detect any magic on his clothing from her unassuming spot amongst the senators.

"Queen Alexstrasza, Sir Hanzo." Raena started. "I thank you for the swiftness with which you pledged the Red Dragonflight to my call to arms."

"I could not abide chaos invading my home, nor shall I abide it invading yours." The woman, Alexstrasza, stood at the front, her certifiably unprotected cohort standing slightly behind her. "I do not have many of my flight at my side here, in the Nexus. But we will contribute all we can to the protection of life. The front is the Alterac Peaks, is it not?"

"Yes. I've already sent my armies, but we never kept a large war machine- too expensive, and it couldn't move fast enough to protect our villages. However, while every village has an organised militia, taking those away is signing a death warrant for those people. Mustering an army large enough to swing the war in our favor decisively may take time, so I ask that you command your forces conservatively until we have put together more troops."

"Wise words, my distant kin." Alexstrasza said. "I will spread them out to gather information for you, until _you_ call the attack, Queen of humanity. Dragonqueen though I may be, I know the value of a _united command structure._" She spent a second looking around the room. "Should you require me or mine, give the word."

The archer finally stepped into the conversation, as Alexstrasza took a step back. He immediately knelt, looking up to the queen. "Your Majesty. I am but one man, though I have allies in this world. If you would permit me, I will seek them out- I may need a short while to locate them, as I left their home to wander and seek redemption. But I may now stake what honour I have reclaimed on my word- Overwatch would gladly stand against those who would bring harm to the innocent. You need only give me the time to speak with them."

Raena smiled. "You may rise, archer. The dragons within you tell me that you stand in this court as an equal."

There was a grumble amongst the senators.

"Or perhaps even our better." Raena added, smiling perfectly innocently.

Orphea smirked at that. War was horrible, but if there was one thing to take solace in, it was Raena's emergency powers. The senators could still stop her with democracy... if they all agreed on stopping her. Which they never did.

"Lest my court see fit to stop me, I welcome you to my armies formally. If you could carry out your proposed tasks with all haste, I would be grateful." Raena said.

There was talking amongst the senators, and Orphea felt a spark of joy as the petty idiots once again failed to do anything. Of course, she simply continued to play her part and observe, seeing what she could learn. Could the queen of a whole world's dragons oppose her father? Orphea didn't know. But she knew that her contribution would help greatly, evening things out against the Spectral Wyrm. And perhaps if 'Overwatch' could deal with the Spider Warden's forces... all she'd need to do would be convince her own people to stand down.

But for all her inward scheming, Orphea knew that all the armies in the world were moot if the Dark Nexus wasn't dealt with. And that meant defeating her father.

She couldn't bring herself to be optimistic.

* * *

Two weeks since her arrival, Delia caught up to Orphea as she leaned over a tiny bridge over a small stream in the gardens.

"Orphea!"

"Delia." Orphea looked to see her atop a horse, lance strapped to her back. "Here for a fourth rematch, or the rare chat?"

"Oh, ha ha." Delia rolled her eyes, sliding off her charger. "Someday you'll run out of snark, and then you'll find you can't speak."

"Oh, a chat?" Orphea raised her eyebrows. "Goodness gracious me. I'm not even prepared to accept such an honour."

Delia huffed, and walked onto the bridge as well. "You... I was going to ask if you'd like to hear a story. One Deckard hasn't told you yet."

"Go on."

Delia looked out over the water. "It's how my father died."

Orphea dropped her joking tone, becoming serious. "Isn't that... a little personal? We've not known each other for that long..."

"Everyone here knows." Delia said absentmindedly. "Most of us in the castle played some part in it." She exhaled. "Me and Verick most of all."

Orphea's thoughts were thrown into disarray at that, but eventually settled into wondering if Delia was trying to help her resolve to kill her own father. True, she hoped secretly that he could be saved, but at this point she'd fully accepted he was almost certainly going to die. "Alright. I'm interested now."

Delia looked up, over to the statue in the middle of the garden.

"My father- the king- was a good ruler. I don't say that as some rose-tinted memory, I know it. He held the absolute respect and loyalty of his court. He held the devotion and adoration of the people. He acted fairly, equitably, and brought bounty to the land without letting us fall into decadence. Everybody loved him.

"It made him a perfect target for the enemies of our kingdom. Normally, while a king is the most important piece of a goverment, it can function without one until a new one succeeds the last, either through marriage or conquest. However, our king commanded such loyalty to himself, that there was nowhere near as much towards his wife. Mother is a fine ruler, but nobody could hope to fill the gap he would leave. So... Queen Nightshade, who wished for our land to expand her own, sought to kill him.

"My father was strong. His time as a warrior played a large part in shaping his prowess at ruling. Nightshade could never have hoped to defeat him, even with an army- because he could trasform into a dragon. So... she sent us a gift. A plant. You are familiar with the story of the Trojan Horse, right? It's crossed the boundary between worlds often. The plant contained a poison. It drove my father to incurable rage, until he simply could not contain it. He turned to a dragon and rampaged.

"And... we tried to save him. We tried so hard, but it couldn't be done. So... we..." Delia was quiet for a moment. "Verick and I resolved to stop him. Just as you have ancestral magic, so do we. White Magic. It can be used for all kinds of things associated with light... and of course, the things all magics are capable of. So, with the help of all the royal guard and mother, we fought him to a standstill. It took six hours. And... people died. We could have bested him without casualties if we struck to kill, but father was too beloved.

"And that's why we sealed him. Verick and I wove a seal using the light of the sun and moon, turning his exhausted body to stone. The intention was to keep him there until a cure to the madness could be found, but... I think our father died that day. I just wanted to tell you that... in case we need to fight against someone you know. We can't afford one of our most useful people betraying us, so... if you ever need to talk about something?"

"That's him in the statue, isn't it?" Orphea gazed across the gardens. It stood tall in the middle of the bushes and trees and small stone buildings, a bipedal dragon with a huge axe.

Delia nodded. "Verick always did say he deserved a statue. It was... cruelly ironic. Speaking of Verick... I know, he acts cool and tough like some aspiring storybook knight or pro sports player... but he still hurts over this. So..."

"Don't poke him about it. Understood." Orphea said. "

* * *

A month passed.

"I cannot. BELIEVE. We haven't moved out in force yet!" Shouted Orphea, inside her room. "It's been a MONTH! A MONTH! I can build a small town in that time! Father conquered the Haunted Mines in three DAYS. He could have mustered enough troops to curb-stomp us if his talent hasn't dulled! And we're still trying to do what, exactly?! You can't wait for an opportunity forever when there's a war on! Varian and the heroes we have mustered are just wearing themselves out up there, degrading any faith they have in this kingdom!"

'I agree, I hoped we'd be quicker. But the army is nearly done. I've organised a few, and all that they're missing should fall into place in a few days.'

Orphea stopped her stamping and shouting and occasional slapping of her bed's pillow or other non-breakable objects in the room, whirling to the coffin lying innocently in the corner. "Don't talk rubbish, grandfather. This shouldn't have taken so long. I'm deeply ashamed we didn't manage to conquer this place if it takes them this long to put together an army!"

'Their government was effectively kneecapped by Nightshade.' Osiris argued. 'You've had it explained a few times.'

"...I know, I know... It's just frustrating." Orphea sat on her bed.

There was a knock at the door.

"It's nothing, I'm fine." Called Orphea.

There was a muffled call. "The shouting I can hear from my bedroom suggests otherwise!"

"...Fine, come in, and get ready to argue."

The door opened, and Verick was standing there with an awkward look. "Something happen?"

"Lack of something happened." Orphea threw out, sitting on her bed with a furious face. "I'm just wondering why we haven't moved out to Alterac. We've given my father a full month to plan whatever he intends, and that's more than long enough for anyone to raise enough troops to defeat us."

Verick stepped in, and leaned against the doorframe. "Actually... want to know some confidential information?"

"What, have we already gone and I never realised?" Orphea said sarcastically. "...Please. Anything to convince me I made the right choice coming to you."

Verick shook his head. "While it's true we've amassed a large army- and we will deploy them shortly- we actually already sent a fairly significant amount of resources to help the Alliance. A lot of our normal standing army, and about half the palace guards. I've been heading up the rest of the royal guard instead of my normal classes in leadership. To the best of our knowledge, the Alliance were gaining ground... but then... " He made an awkward face. "Alextrasza was the one to report it, but she didn't really know what happened. Apparently some kind of space-time anomaly snatched away a lot of the people we'd class as 'heroes', including Varian, Jaina, Uther, and even Muradin. The Alliance didn't have a leader, or even any of it's backup leaders, for a week and a half. That cost them a lot of ground, almost routed them, and made our Mother rework our own attack plans from the ground up, hence the delays."

"Space time anomaly?" Questioned Orphea. "It's a pretty... fantastical... excuse, but I suppose this IS the Nexus. What happened to the heroes caught up in it?"

"We actually recieved a large number of them at the Alterac camp a few days ago. We plan to question them, in exchange for some free beds and meals." Verick explained. "There's all sorts, actually. But the spokesman was called Raynor, and he was pretty adamant that he has warnings to pass on to us."

"Oh, I wonder if they found out about the Dark Nexus?! The chaos energies could definitely sweep people up." Orphea theorised. "But that would be extremely magically distinctive, and if the chaos has spread all the way from my home to Alterac... then reality is in dire straits."

"Let's not jump to conclusions. All we know is that our original battle plan is back on track, and assuming Raynor doesn't present a case even stronger than yours, we're going to move out tomorrow." Verick offered. "Does that ease your spirits?"

"...Thanks, Verick." Orphea said. "Your understanding is very kind... and yes, it does help me relax a bit. To think, I'm less scared of fighting than of sitting around and doing nothing while the Nexus crumbles."

"Ha! That's Deckard's inspiration for you. There's some real fire in his heart." Verick grinned.

"Oh, Deckard." Orphea laughed, although it was tinged with a little melancholy. Deckard had shown himself to be a truly exemplary man in the month she'd known him, full of wisdom, inspiration, the will to fight and the drive to seek peace, and it was true he instilled those values in anyone he could. But it wasn't that elder's teachings that drove her to be responsible about her actions. She could still remember as her father taught her about his tasks as the Realm Lord, how she'd seen what even the tiniest political mistakes could do to a town... how well Neeve had shown her that her world could crumble in the blink of an eye... how she'd practiced her magic day in and day out, and even executed people...

Though Verick could never have known any of that. "Anyway, I'm going to make sure that the food we prepare for the arrivals tomorrow is as intended. I want to make sure the treatment of guests in our castle is as good as a dragon's."

"Heh. Your people do love their dragons."

"Oh, what gave it away?" Verick grinned. "Could it be the windows? The culture? The fact Alexstrasza and Hanzo have dedicated retainers because of their draconic affiliations?"

"The fact that every metal piece of armour you make either has a wing insignia, horns or scales? The statue in the garden?" Orphea added.

"Ah... the garden statue..." Verick trailed off. "...I guess, although... that's more because of a family thing."

Orphea closed her eyes, and sighed in self-imposed shame. "I... apologize. That was a slip, I wasn't thinking about the conversation properly."

"You know, huh?"

"...You're brave to keep going." Orphea said softly. "I really am sorry. I didn't mean to dredge up painful memories."

"The sun will always rise tomorrow." Verick said offhandedly. "I'd hardly be worthy of being the 'Prince Of The Sun' if I let myself stay in bed and weep. And besides. It's better to remember the fallen. Maybe they'll still get to guide you for the better even when they're gone, that way?"

Orphea could only feel a stab of pain in her heart at those words, despite the warmth. "...Maybe. Don't you have a meal to plan?"

"Of course. I hope you'll turn out to greet them with me tomorrow." Verick got off the doorframe, and stretched. "Goodnight, Orphea."

"Night."

The door closed with a click. Orphea fell back onto the bed, and dreamed of her home... of her father, of Neeve, and of days long past.

* * *

Orphea wasn't sure exactly what role to play in welcoming the gaggle of heroes who'd just been trekked down from Alterac. Verick's skills as a host were impeccable, and he'd accounted for everything down to the last man. He'd make a fine king if he could make this kind of impression on anyone he needed to parley with- comforting, welcoming, but not overly opulent or chokingly caring.

"Now that introductions are over, please know that we are willing to grant you temporary stay here." Verick said pleasantly. "There is mercenary work available with a good price in our army we've formed against the encroaching chaos, and we're more than happy to provide specific information or answer any questions about that- but we will respect anyone's decision to remain separate from our armed forces, and make their own way in the world. Until then, all rooms are equipped with bathing facilities, and I'll host a meal for you all in three hours. I hope you'll consider our offers."

Delia stood next to Orphea. "He's so... warm. Isn't he?" She whispered.

"Yes. It's a good trait."

"I wish I could manage that. Stern discipline, and severity... I know you need that as a leader, but he really does seem so much better at all of it than me."

"Jealous?" Asked Orphea.

"...No. He's my brother. We look out for each other. I really don't think we could make it without our mutual support." Delia kept an arm folded behind her back, and a hand on her lance. Trusting so many strangers and inviting them into the castle was a huge security risk- and it was up to her to ensure it didn't result in any unsavory actions.

Orphea nodded. "So the army marches tomorrow." She folded her hands, looking at them. Her skin had lost that chalky whiteness during her time here courtesy of consistent sunlight, but she was still as pale as the white roses in the garden. A constant reminder of the land she'd left behind, and would begin to return to tomorrow. "Will you or Verick come with me?"

"No, actually. Military command is the duty of the King, or Queen in our case. I wanted her to take us along to act as generals- or even simple soldiers, anything to help. But the senate would bring the kingdom to it's knees in a day if we left them unchecked... so it's effectively a trial run for Verick." Delia explained. She looked at the crowd dispersing carefully, many heroes sporting weaponry. "I pray my mother will be okay. You've heard that the Horde controls almost all Alterac completely now?"

"I've heard about the dimensional anomaly. Accursed piece of bad luck, but that's life. Fairness only exists when the dominant power wills it to." Orphea muttered. "...I'm going to spend the afternoon with Deckard. See you for dinner."

* * *

Orphea happily missed dinner, buried in a fascinating book about the complexities of raising a dragon into undeath, apparently including a study of a dragon called 'Sapphiron'. It was like some kind of twisted collaboration between home and this kingdom, although there would be repercussions for anyone that went and reanimated a dragon the way this book suggested. The Spectral Wyrm would have a field day dragging them back to the tower and then likely seeing them imprisoned for doing an outright inhumane job of the reanimation, not to mention the mind control...

But knowledge was power. And also highly interesting, especially when it detailed horrific or forbidden things. All too soon, the sun was setting, and darkness falling. Unfortunately... I mean that literally.

'Orphea?'

She put a slip of paper in the book, and looked to the wrapped coffin next to her. "I hope you have a good reason to interrupt, grandfather."

'It shouldn't be dark outside. It's seven in the evening, we should have two more hours of light. And it grew dark so quickly that-'

Orphea looked out of the window. Darkness. Familiar darkness. She grabbed the coffin and put it weightlessly on her back, before throwing the window open and looking up. She needn't have bothered, already sensing the magic in the air, the familiar presences that sparked more dread than she could ever mentally recall.

Purplish clouds blanketed the skies, a pattern of runes forming over courtyard in the air... Those runes arranged into somthing familiar. A portal.

And completely bypassing any defenses or armies or even mountains in the way, the armies of her father spewed forth.


	14. Chapter 11: Crushing Jaws

Orphea's first reaction was to get out and fight. The gates were open and the castle guards were lessened, if she let them past the chokepoint at the gate then they'd have no trouble killing everyone here. She shoved at the window, trying to bend it further open, and in a panic for time, gathered a little magic and blew it off its' hinges.

"Deckard!" She shouted. She glanced back, and saw the scholar taking his cane and propping himself up.

"I am here, Orphea. What is happening outside?"

"Invasion. It's my father. Sound the alarm, I'll slow them down!" She didn't wait for a reply, jumping from the window. Magic kicked in as she fell, and she threw some attacks from above before reaching the ground.

This initial force of her father's troops seemed to be... ordinary people. Guards that might once have seen nothing worse than a few wolves approaching the town wall.

The alarm started ringing, and the castle gates started to close... agonisingly slowly. There were no royal soldiers around, leaving Orphea alone in the courtyard, facing down a squadron of at least fifty men.

"Stand down." She raised a hand, floating in front of them.

There was visible hesitation, until the leader charged forwards, holding up his sword. Orphea knew instantly, from his pained battlecry, to the sheer lack of morale she saw in the unit. This wasn't a group who wanted to fight. This was a collection of people who were simple minions of greater powers, forced to serve by the circumstances.

She threw a bolt of magic straight through his heart, the man not even attempting to guard.

"Stand. Down." She said again, looking through the group. But where she'd tried to intimidate them, it was clear she'd only terrified them into attacking.

It was all too easy for her anguish to take physical form, no matter how stony her face stayed. The lashing crushed several of them outright, before many more ran in to try and corner her. Rage and anger came naturally at having to fight her own people, and she summoned a huge set of floating spikes, closing like jaws. Almost all of the attackers were crushed, but about half were still left.

And they still intended to attack her. Orphea gave up trying to hold back, and rage turned to wrath. She looked at their position, dodged a volley of arrows and glanced at the gates, almost closed. She would wipe them out in one fell swoop. Her wrath took form, a giant ceiling of spikes which fell down, seeming to almost devour the leftover troops. She made them reform and fall again, and again, and again, until nothing was left but a red smear on the floor.

She dropped to the ground, and ran inside. The doors closed either an instant or an eternity later, and Orphea didn't know. She didn't know how she felt. She felt nothing, and it was overwhelming. She'd killed them. That hadn't affected her. What kind of monster-

'Focus, Orphea. The guards don't know what happened, or more likely is happening.'

'Right.'

She got up, and looked around. Many guards stood there uncertainly. Or at least many in a relative sense. Orphea inwardly cursed, remember that even part of the royal guard was sent ahead to Alterac. The timing on this attack couldn't be worse for her. Still, what was worse was the fact that these soldiers, men who should have been the best the kingdom had to offer, were standing there uselessly and even falling for an almost painfully obvious distraction tactic.

"What are you all doing here?!" Snapped Orphea, glaring down every man like they were being arrested. "The rest of the walls need defenses too! There's no way a force that small is all of them!"

"Y-yes ma'am!" One shouted, running into a side corridor.

"...Do you know who they are? And do you have advice?" Asked the one at the front.

Orphea glanced back at the door, feeling a familiar magic run through the atmosphere. "My father's forces, without doubt. I think it's almost certainly a diversion here- he has several armies at his disposal, and all of them are more competent than the men I dispatched outside."

"Right... Men, give the order to spread even. Ensure the watchtowers are manned." The head guard said confidently. "Lady Orphea, please head to Queen Raena. She and the rest of the guests will wait in the safety of the throneroom."

The rest of the guests? The veritable army of legendary warriors from four different dimensions? That sounded like exactly what she needed to stand a fighting chance here. "I think I will. Expect reinforcements shortly, because you won't be able to win this fight alone."

* * *

Raena sat in her throne. White magic radiated softly from her eyes, as she observed the walls from her seat. They weren't under attack right now, but she could sense portals opening all around her castle. They didn't have long to decide on a strategy...

"Mother. Let me take the troops and man the defensive. We can only win this by careful attrition."

"..." Raena closed her eyes. "Delia, I'm not sure victory is at all possible. If they have a means of disrupting my portal, then we'll stand and fight, but otherwise we've no choice but to retreat. They're making a four-fanged offense."

Delia expression was pained, as she held her spear tighter and looked around the room. "We have so many heroes with us! Surely they can turn the tide!"

"I don't know... I detect so many through the portals. And it would be better to cede this castle than lose their lives- or take a poor gamble with our own." Raena sounded uncertain to the core. She opened her eyes. "No. We will defend our castle. Verick."

"I'm here. I think I have a strategy, but... We'd need everyone in the room. At bare minimum."

There was a knock, and the door creaked open. Orphea pushed it all the way. "Heroes. We're under attack. Anyone who wants to live should arm themselves."

Every gaze in the room turned towards her. Orphea recognised some of the most famous by description alone, the legendary Raynor, Uther the Lightbringer, and the Crusader of Sanctuary... She was surprised none spoke, and guessed that they were in the middle of listening to something. "Verick, If I interrupted you, please continue. I can take apart the enemy formations, so... use me as a pawn... if you _must._" Oh, the indignity of it...

Verick looked around. "Okay, before I start- does any hero have any ability to fly?"

Alexstrasza stepped forwards. Falstad joined her, guiding his gryphon by some reins.

"You're to fly overhead and bring news to me if the enemy do anything suspicious." Verick said plainly. "I'll order aerial attacks only if I must, I know the danger." He looked back to his mother. "Queen Raena, I know you're a fighter beyond any of us, but you're the best choice to stay here with the senators and other important people. You can open a portal for them to escape if anything slips through the defences, and you can use the singularity here, as well as your white magic. I respect you would prefer to fight on the front, but we have our entire command structure here. Losing anyone would be a serious blow."

"It will be done, worry not." Raena confirmed. "I shall arm myself now, if those are my orders. Senators, I advise you to wait away from the doors- the windows are enchanted and unlikely to break if hit with arrows, while the door can be attacked on foot." She got up and swept behind the throne, taking out a chest and throwing the lid open, pulling a set of pure-white platemail from inside, and a gleaming zweihander.

Verick looked around everyone else. "I want you heroes to act defensive for us. There are walls you can fire from, as well as defensive chokepoints around the edges of this castle. Everyone who can attack at range say aye."

"Aye."

"Okay, split into four equal groups. Everyone who can hold a chokepoint say aye."

"Aye."

"Split into four groups. Join with the other groups. Healers, one per group. The rest are staying central to move where needed. Everyone else, get to the gatehouse and be ready to fight. Your groups are now designated north, south, east, west. Cover those directions. Group leaders are Hanzo, Raynor, Varian, and Deckard." Verick ordered. "I'm going to set up field command benath the Dragon statue. Now let's move out, no time to waste!" His voice was a ray of light in the darkness, his outfit just elaborate enough to inspire and seem regal without shouting a message of overconfidence.

Orphea couldn't help but overhear a few of the heroes saying things in approval towards the young man's spirit and clear thinking, Raynor looking downright happy as he clapped a hand onto Uther's shoulder.

* * *

Orphea followed the 'West' group at a slight distance, ensnared by her worries. She knew she could take this group to victory. Deckard would value any input she had with his wisdom, if not manage to pick apart her father's tactics by himself. Together they were in the defense of the walls near the throne room, arguably the most important of the four directions.

If any other wall breached, Verick would have time to react, and move his small backup force in to shore up the defence. If they failed here, then the enemy would be able to reach the throne room first. No matter how well Raena fought, her people would be in immense danger.

They made it up onto the fortifications, most of the heroes with her spreading out to get a view of the landscape below, or seeing places they could scale down if they needed to repel foes on foot.

It would be more effective to stay entirely within the fortifications and just attack, although Orphea supposed that would give the enemy freedom to assault this position however they chose. Deploying ground forces would ensure they couldn't chip down the walls with artillery of any kind, assuming said ground forces were able to pull off successful incursions against the enemy army.

Orphea was willing to place a small measure of trust in these people. They were heroes, or at the very least they had some feats to their names. She hung back, simultaneously looking like a broody unwilling teenager and making countless tactical observations. She knew they would win. She could repel them all herself if she had to, although there was a significant danger of dying. No, she worried because she was against her father. There was nobody better at making their enemies snatch defeat from the jaws of victory. How could he do it? The town was undefended. Even though she'd known her father preferred not to kill townsfolk, that was then, and now he was corrupted. Doing that could easily draw away the castle defences to a losing battle to try and help... Or perhaps he'd created a mana bomb based on the one at Theramore, and would try to wipe them all out in one big blue bang. Or he'd made pacts with demons. Or hired an army of spacefaring mercenaries. She would put nothing past him.

And then darkness surged in the sky, drawing everyone's attention. Orphea recognised the strategy, as it took shape in a giant ethereal raven of black shadows with blazing red eyes, swooping around the castle. Intimidation, followed by lightning-swift infantry attack while people looked at the huge 'threat' above.

"GO FORTH, AND SLAUGHTER IN MY NAME!" The Raven lord's huge spirit avatar beat it's wings, and a scattering of dark magic bombarded the castle courtyard, and the east wall. "NONE SHALL SURVIVE."

"Everyone, focus on the outside of the walls! They'll try and strike us while we focus on him!" Orphea stepped up. Her voice was prepubescent and yet it had more authority than most nobles.

Deckard slammed the butt of his staff on the floor. "Warriors, heed her!"

There was a ripple of united movement on the western wall as everyone trained weapons on the outside darkness, hills of green grass and streets of smooth stone that were now shadowy and foreboding.

And then the armies and generals came through. Orphea felt a long few moments of cold dread as the portal set before her wall was opened, and through it flooded the armies of Ravencourt. The second worst possible foe she could face was rushing forwards. Aside from a hefty portion of normal footsoldiers, several formations of witches flew forwards on brooms, and she could see a great many arcanists and wizards supporting the frontline of normal troops.

She would personally have ranked the four divisions of her father's army with the Grey Dragonflight strongest, his very greatest prize of conquest and most elite force of almost eighty undead dragons, raised with an expertise known only to the Nexus, followed by the Witch Knights, a collective of skilled magic users adept in harnessing the inherent darkness of her home to their own ends... and often toeing the line of their admittedly lenient laws. The Phantom Brigade were third, while comprised of many 'strong-spirited' footsoldiers that excelled in direct assaults and grunt work they didn't have the capability to make drastic battle-changing moves quickly. They formed the bulk rank and file of the army, at around two and a half thousand strong. The Warden's Forces were more of a highly trained police, certainly dangerous and very likely to make excellent choices of targets, but not equipped for full-blown war, or truly numbered for one, at around six hundred officers.

But still, Orphea's numbers were scarcely breaking ten with the the support of the remaining royal guard. Her father had sent about... five hundred professional soldiers, by her estimation. At least half this entire division of his army.

The first few rows of witches flew forwards, throwing bolts of chaos energy at the walls. Orphea huffed. Of course they'd immediately research how to weaponize the tragedy consuming her home. She stepped up. "Ranged units, focus on incoming enemy air units first!" She shouted, weaving together a bolt of her own chaos magic. Hit and run tactics were good for offense, but risky. And her witches wouldn't expect a fierce counterattack, given they should have the element of surprise.

...Her witches? No, her father's witches.

Orphea shot the bolt through the night sky, and as a formation tried to dodge it found its' mark in the leader, breaking apart the fliers into uncertain individuals who were quickly shot down by a woman at Orphea's side holding crossbows.

The armies charged the chokepoint. Godawful strategy by her father's general... she had a surplus of mages to cast fireballs until only ashes were left. Perhaps there was hope, and her mind had gone.

The battle unfolded. Orphea unleashed a constant torrent of magical shots, intermingled with waves of Dread that ripped apart enemy formations and made entire ranks stumble on the rows of bone spikes. Her heart both reeled in horror and was utterly dispassionate as her every attack killed someone she'd sworn to protect. It was necessary. She would take another path as soon as she could, but for now she simply did her duty, and fought. Down below, the chokepoint was holding strong, the frontlines of the mages far too thin and weak to take down legendary men who could demolish hundreds of others in a day. And the walls were just enough to shoot at any mage who would bombard the choke...

Air superiority was fading for the Witch Knights. They'd failed to break the walls, and Orphea was gaining confidence they'd be repelled. She hadn't even needed to tip her hand to her allies and enemies.

And then they pulled back before committing to a final assault. Orphea cursed, but still offered an ounce of admiration to the general. She'd avoided wasting her troops, and since the defenders on this wall couldn't risk moving away... they could well make a huge difference to one of the other fronts.

She knew what had to be done without hesitation. "Deckard. Can you hold this wall with the remaining forces?"

Deckard leaned wearily on his staff. "...Young Orphea. I will defend it to the utmost of my ability, if you believe your knowledge can be useful elsewhere. Power is in the mind, not the flesh."

"Great wisdom, but I'll be going now. I can't lose another second." She jumped from the wall and caught herself in the air, floating forwards, surveying the battle.

* * *

Verick shuffled the coins he'd placed on a piece of paper to act as an impromptu war map as Falstad finished his latest report. He took a pencil and scratched another line on a wall. He moved the coin that represented the Western assault around to the north.

"Reserve forces, go and bolster the North! The undead dragons cannot be allowed to overwhelm the Lifebinder, or we can't possibly beat them!"

There was a war cry as about a dozen warriors sprinted towards battle. Verick reviewed positions again, keeping a hand on his sword, looking up to the statue his little war camp was set up under.

"Father... watch over me."

Prayer seemed the best hope he had left.

There was a shadowy rippling in the magic on the air, and Verick had his sword half-drawn before Orphea landed.

"Peace. I'm here to help, my father has pulled back from the west wall, and Deckard is guarding it." She said quickly, looking to the northern walls. For a moment she saw the Spectral Wyrm locked in battle with Alexstrasza, the two mighty dragons flying through the air in a rollercoaster of claws and flame, before they both crashed down out of sight again. "...I'll go there."

"Please." Verick managed to get out, with an awkward smile.

Orphea set off at a run, before flying into the air and seeming to almost leap the entire castle wall, much to the surprise of one Hanzo Shimada, and a few other ranged attackers.

Alexstrasza was one of the strongest beings in all existence, even if her powers were diminished greatly after her battle with Deathwing. The queen of dragons, the lifebinder, a harbinger of the flame that burned away undead. Sending her against the Grey Dragonflight would have seemed an ideal coincidence, her life magic capable of destroying the undead more thoroughly than a nuclear blast before even factoring in her insane amount of magical and physical power.

She was currently struggling to escape as the Spectral Wyrm tried to crush her neck against the battlements of the castle. Orphea knew exactly why Alexstrasza had ended up in this situation.

The reanimations perfected by the Gravekeeper didn't just turn the dead to undead... they were a form of new life, every single cell infused with the unholy will to live as it once did. You existed in a perfect balance of life and death, without need of your organs or flesh yet capable of regenerating as a living being would, unharmed by life magic, as you were almost indistinguishable from a living being.

So when Alexstrasza had tried to purge the Spectral Wyrm's undeath in the fires of life... She'd likely done naught but fully healed her foe.

Orphea saw the dragonflight of the Wyrm, running rampant against the heroes. Alexstrasza's own dragonflight was already sent ahead to the front. The heroes were seemingly indestructible, although Orphea noticed hints that some might have perished... and then she landed on Alexstrasza's head, dead magic welling within her. Anger at the Spectral Wyrm, for not knowing better, for doing this, for daring to make a mess of her plans... she made her purple eldritch maw appear in front of her, chomping down on the Wyrm's arm. It released enough for Alexstrasza to wrench her way free, slamming the Wyrm, and collapsing the battlement as Orphea jumped off, hovering in the air for a second.

She needed to turn this tide. Immediately. Even if they managed to overcome the Spectral Wyrm here, the rest of the dragons would tear down the walls on this side, if not the whole castle. Ironic, that Dragon Shire might be consumed by dragons.

Alexstrasza grappled, spewing out normal fire against the defences of the Spectral Wyrm, who in turn billowed a ghostly kind of smoky flame, washing over Alexstrasza. Getting between them would be suicide. So of course, the only plan that presented itself to Orphea required getting between them.

But how to do that?! She'd need to stop Alexstrasza from-

A beam of pick-gold light shone from behind the Spectral Wyrm, hitting Alexstrasza squarely in the chest. Chains sprouted from the point of impact immediately, spreading over her whole body in seconds, as Orphea looked back to see the Witch of the Hollows- the general of the Witch Knights- standing there, channelling the chain spell and laughing like a madwoman.

In a mere second, the tide turned against the dragonqueen and the Spectral Wyrm threatened to crush the life from her... but Orphea could handle one at a time. She had one desperate card to play.

"In the name of my country..." Orphea came tearing down through the air, holding out a whip of anguish and slamming it between the Wyrm's eyes hard enough to stun her, before backflipping away, preparing her attack. "I order you to STAND DOWN!" She threw what seemed to be a small purple blob at the feet of the Spectral Wyrm, and for a nanosecond she wondered if it was even a real emotion she'd called on.

And then her sense of authority manifested, two huge walls of spikes blooming from the floor and closing in a giant sandwich, trapping the Spectral Wyrm tight, unable to even open her mouth and breathe towards Orphea.

"Revert to human this instant, and you- Throw down your weapon!" Orphea snapped like a teacher scolding children, and they seemed to cringe as if they were. The Spectral Wyrm was utterly trapped, without much choice but to obey, and her form shimmered and seemed to evaporate down into one human on her knees. The Witch of the Hollows hesitated, realising she was isolated from her forces and outgunned, and reluctantly let her broom drop to the floor, crazed laughter gone.

"Orphea, I didn't expect you'd be here, in the den of our enemies." The Wyrm said, voice dry and shaken.

Orphea crossed her arms sternly. "Do you truly believe that you should serve my father now? Do you not question anything about him? It's one thing to serve, but another to enable such tragedy without opposition."

The Wyrm chuckled sadly. "I'm bound to the Raven Lord, child... Bound by magic. I couldn't oppose him."

There was a sound behind Orphea, followed by Alexstrasza limping up to her side. "Fascinating... you convinced them to stop? Who ARE you..?"

"Step back, Dragonqueen. These are my people, and it's my responsibility to stop them falling into evil ways." Orphea held a hand out to the side, barring the way with such a natural intention that even Alexstrasza stopped, watching with ancient eyes. "Now... Wyrm. Witch. I will speak plainly. My father is dead. He died the moment he opened the Dark Nexus. Whatever was left behind is a broken doll, the burned remains of his mind. You have no reason to obey his orders."

Orphea looked first to the Witch. "I know of your exploits. I know how you don't have any problem killing any number of people for even a shred of new arcana. And I know we were fighting ten minutes ago, killing each other's forces. Knowing that, I ask you to stand down and join my side of the conflict. While my father will let you run any experiment you please, kill anyone you may profit from... that is merely because he has not decided to kill you yet. And all the power you could accumulate in ten thousand years won't oppose a Singularity enriched by chaos. Will you swear service to me? Or die, either here and now or whenever my father's corpse feels like it."

The witch seemed taken back, biting her lip.

Orphea wheeled on the Wyrm. "And you. Spectral Wyrm, leader of the Grey Dragonflight. I know you. You know me, ever since we met a year ago. I know you have a heart rooted in a love for this world. Life and death... they can coexist, they have to. But destruction? Chaos? The atrocities that you're ordered to commit against the innocent? I know that rips your heart in two! You don't want those to exist, you would never do this of your own volition! I know you'd rather cease to be! And my father is dead! Dead! Any promise he bound you to means less than nothing! So will you choose you own path, or let your soul wither?!"

Orphea looked between them, the force of her words, her posture, her magic, the look in her eyes and the truth of her argument... so many things culminating in an order that could swing the battle completely.

The Wyrm was the last piece of the puzzle, bowing her head a bit, putting a hand over her side. "...Alright. I'll call off my attack, and then I'll wait in the courtyard. Dying to your allies is better than serving him. Guide me well, and... live longer than the last two people I've followed. How about it, witch?" She looked over, before clicking her fingers and sending up some kind of signal flare of wispy fire that likely sounded the retreat. "There must be some morality in you. Somewhere."

"Tsk." The Witch of the Hollow looked up. "I could just kill you both. Right now. You vastly overestimate-"

Orphea floated upwards a little. "Seems you can't be trusted." She made a show of her eyes turning a deep, hellish red, and Dead Magic swirled around her. "I take it you choose to die here, then!"

"..." The witch scowled, holding up a gem. A stream of pink magic shot out, forming a thin, fast beam. "Die!"

Orphea let the attack hit her defences. It didn't bounce off meaninglessly, or fizzle on contact. It hurt. The magic seemed designed to inhibit the target while draining their life, but it wasn't inhibitive enough to stop Orphea. Who promptly moved in and lashed the Witch across the face, before swiftly shooting a bolt of chaos into the Witch's hat, knocking it askew. The laser ceased.

"You... you brat." She spat on the floor, going to right her hat...

Orphea glanced up. "The Witching hour closes."

The witch never saw it coming, likely because it was intended to be hidden from her. But with a sudden flash of steel, half a dozen knives buried themselves in her back, and she froze in shock, reaching around to uncertainly grasp one before a sharp chakram came swinging around from the other side, decapitating her. Her body fell to the floor in a pool of blood, leaving the Spider Warden standing behind her ominously.

There was a tense moment before the Spider Warden spoke. "You should count yourself lucky my alliegance is to justice, Orphea. If it was to your wretch of a father, it would be your head rolling right now."

"You've come to join me, I take it?" Orphea smiled.

"...My forces have routed, and I pulled them back before they could all die. I decided to see if I could assassinate a villain before going myself. And I got to kill one who's been in my sights for a long while." The Warden's face was unreadable behind her mask, but Orphea could hear a smile, plain as day. "We will not lend you direct aid. I intend to break off and police the lands during this chaos. You will not oppose me."

"Good enough. Now begone."

The Warden nodded. "I hope not to see you again. And as we're standing for the same cause... know the Phantom Knight was destroyed minutes ago. Only her armies remain, although they threaten to fully overrun the castle." Without another word, the Spider Warden turned and leapt to the wall behind her, seeming to run into the darkness effortlessly.

The Spectral Wyrm chuckled. "Only you could halt all four of someone's generals in the space of two minutes. Ambitious girl."

Alexstrasza walked forwards and looked down at the Wyrm. "You intrigue me, undead. You are healed by my magic. And your will seems to be your own, uncorrupted by reanimation... Perhaps your kind are my mortal enemy, but I am willing to extend the benefit of the doubt, on behalf of Orphea."

"Much appreciated. If you two could just not kill each other while I'm not babysitting, that'd be fantastic." Orphea stretched, and looked back to the walls of the castle. "Now I'd better get back, if I don't do everything I can then-"

There was a huge pillar of light from the centre of the courtyard, two intertwining spirals of gold and silver light, followed by an echoing roar. Orphea suddenly had a horrible feeling that everything was about to go utterly, irreversibly wrong. If only because it took an army to seal that man last time...

* * *

She watched it unfold from the top of the walls, completely uncertain what she could do.

The Dragon Knight wasn't a statue anymore, and it was fighting with the Dark Nexus copy of Alarak. Well, fighting was a misnomer. It was beating the everloving crap out of DNAlarak and the entire army behind it, as his two battered children stood at his side.

Verick seemed an accomplished healer, while he avoided stepping into melee combat with his sword. Warm sunlight flowed from his hands, soaking into the injuries of his sister as she used her shield and spear on foot to keep the enemies from getting around the Dragon Knight. Her horse was nowhere to be seen.

But really, their father was stealing the show. He blasted a huge swathe of the Phantom Brigade with flame breath, turning the stones below them black and their bodies into metal slurry. He swept his axe along the floor and cut down a row of them like wheat. DNAlarak got close, and even got in a good hit on his chest- but retaliation was instant.

The axe came slamming down hard enough to smash the floor tiles into pieces, the cracks spreading dozens of metres across the courtyard. The shockwave alone destabilized nearby enemy soldiers. And the mocking copy of Alarak was caught in the middle of it. It split him down the middle, rocky face exploding into dust, chest halves flying apart, and glowing core outright obliterated in a puff of dust, red light dying.

The remaining Phantom Brigade hesitated. Their general was down. Their backup general was down. Their numbers were thinning. They weren't recieving any support from the other divisions, apart from a pathetic token force of wizards. The tide had turned against them, as they ran out of momentum.

King's Crest would win the day.

At least, that was how it seemed to everyone. But the assumption was wrong. Direly wrong. As Delia let herself breathe for just a second, there was a ripple of darkness behind the Dragon Knight, two sharp red eyes glowing within... and The Raven Lord appeared, holding out a singularity, shadow energies seeming to flow into the dragon knight and outright transforming it. In a space of seconds it went from a regal thing fighting with noble poise, to a demonic mirror, gripping the axe with something akin to pure hatred.

"Were you expecting this to reach its' conclusion so easily?" The Raven Lord said, flying out of reach of the two horrified children as the Demon Dragon howled in pain, turning slowly to face the other side of the battleground.

A ray of sunlight went flying towards the Raven Lord, but seemed to simply be absorbed into his unreal form. "Leave him alone, you arrogant bastard!" Shouted Verick, as the Demon Dragon drew back...

"Idiot, get behind me!" Delia yelled, shoving Verick aside. She looked up, raising her spear and shield against the monster she'd been raised by...

'RUN...'

Orphea blinked, the words snapping her out of her morbid trance. "Grandfather..?" She whispered.

'That's not me. It's the king.' His voice was somber. 'A shame his last words are to be so simple and tragic.'

The Demon Dragon struck. The axe went between Delia and Verick, carving off part of Delia's shield roughly, but in a testament to her own strength she didn't drop the defense, getting into a ready stance, accetping the hopeless fight. Verick, however...

"Father, fight his control!" The young man begged, wary of the axe but failing to even raise his sword.

And without anything to ward it back the Demon Dragon surged forwards, blowing flame at point-blank range. Delia jumped in the way, shield up and glowing white-hot in seconds, thrown aside as both siblings stumbled out of the fire. The metal seared her arm, and Delia frantically scrabbled at the strap. She was too distracted unbuckling it and throwing it away to see the Demon Dragon pressing the attack, as it didn't swing the axe, instead charging her and kicking her.

Orphea watched as Delia went flying. The kick was enough to fling her like a ragdoll, and angled away from the floor she sailed through the air and smashed straight through the window at the front of the main tower. Raena was in for a horrible surprise... Orphea silently accepting the loss with a hint of shock for a second before she realised Verick had frozen completely.

The Demon Dragon grabbed him, and Orphea could swear she saw an arm break. Before it charged forwards, along the rest of the courtyard, leaping up to the window and smashing through without effort. She saw the huge figure raising the hand with Verick inside, and a distant cry of 'Get back!', from Delia. The cry was abruptly halted, as the Demon Dragon slammed it's fist down.

Orphea was about to jump from the battlement and fly in, before Osiris' voice rang in her ears. 'We can't try and approach directly, the army will annihilate us.'

"Right... I'll go around the back." Orphea broke into a full sprint along the walls, seeing flashes of light and flame within the throne room. Whatever was happening inside, it was violent and likely going to result in a lot of deaths.

* * *

She came in through a passage from the west wall, onto a ledge overlooking the whole room. Normally an ideal spot for someone to hide with a bow, should a guest need to die. But now it was abandoned, the archer assigned to it likely waiting to go to Alterac.

The room was desolate. A place of nightmares, where it had once been warm and regal. Orphea saw rubble everywhere, a huge spray of broken glass below the opposite windows, and a few other things in the grey darkness, any torches blown out and other lights destroyed. The Demon Dragon... or perhaps the Dragon Knight, somewhere between the corrupt and normal state, had fallen to the side of the throne, now a huge, broken statue. Raena's sword had pierced directly through it's head, leaving a hole Orphea could make out in this dim moonlight. A gaping hole was in the back wall, one tinged with chaos and Dead Magic. Several bodies were strewn about the room, all clearly having attempted to flee in panic.

Raena herself knelt on the floor, in front of the throne. Orphea looked around, and deemed it safe to float down and take a closer look. She saw Raena too had turned to stone, frozen as if reaching out to grasp something unspeakable... and next to her, discarded like almost some common trinket... The Singularity of King's Crest. It's glow had dimmed noticeably, and thin red wisps of energy were locked inside the gem... It's power had been sealed. Orphea could tell immediately. Until the seal was broken, it was effectively nothing more than a rock.

"H..."

Orphea's attention snapped around to the side. There, amidst the rubble... the two heirs lay. It looked almost as if their father was reaching for them. Orphea got up, and tentatively walked over. She could tell Verick was dead at a glance. He'd been crushed, and it wasn't pretty.

"H... e..."

The choked words spurred Orphea to move. She ran across the room, shoes echoing on the lifeless stone floor. She got over to the two, and rolled what was left of Verick out of the way.

Delia was in a bad way. Her shield was gone, her chestplate had buckled, and there was blood everywhere- who's, Orphea couldn't tell. "I'm here. Delia, it's me. I'll get a medic. Just hold on."

Delia tried to breathe, and winced in pain. "..!"

Orphea ran to the shattered front window, looking outside. The Phantom Brigade had been repelled, aside from the heroes driving it back then several undead dragons had landed. Orphea imagined they'd have turned this into a rather brutal 'no escape' situation. She took a breath, and shouted. "HEALER!"

For a nerve-wracking few seconds, nothing happened. And then from the Grey Dragonflight, the commander leapt forwards, sailing through the air, turning to a woman as she passed through the window.

"Survivors?" The Wyrm said, looking around the room.

"Here, hurry!" Orphea ran over to Delia, kneeling. "Delia. Delia! Hold on for a moment, please!"

Delia's eyes seemed to drift, and then the warrior princess seemed to physically bite her tongue. With a jolt, her eyes widened, enough to see someone behind Orphea. The new woman raised a hand, and Delia felt... something. Something hopeful, before she fell to the floor, into darkness.

The Wyrm lowered her hand. "...I wish I hadn't hurt Alexstrasza so. She's more accomplished a healer than me, in every way."

"Did you save her?"

"I... she lingers at the very edge of death. Preventing her from dying- or even leaving a body that can be reanimated- will take me all night." The Wyrm seemed to gather up more magic, and made the same motion with her hand. "...This goes without saying, but the boy is already dead."

"..." Orphea nodded. "...Oh no. This kingdom... without it's queen..." She looked around, realising she recognised so many of the senators amongst the carnage. "Without it's enitre council... what will become of it?"

"..." The Wyrm closed her eyes. "I cannot answer that. I lead dragons, not humans. However... you should leave. Go for a walk, and send any other able-bodied healers you can find up here. And... don't let this sight break you."

Orphea stood up, and silently walked out of the hole in the back wall. One no doubt created by her father. The night seemed so empty in the face of failure.

Had everything been for naught? The entire force that would oppose her father lay in tatters... they would never agree to fight for her. Assuming anybody could convince them to fight against Ravencourt.

"I should have done something."

'You did.' Osiris was ever-present, ever-logical. Grief and anger weren't logical.

Orphea's percieved failure ripped her apart where she stood. Was there no hope left in this world? Had she managed to condemn the Nexus to an eternity of chaos through her choices? Why couldn't Verick have just been a little less careless?! Why, why, why did things have to turn so sour?!

"Cain was right." She said, climbing up onto the wall she'd defended barely an hour ago.

'About?'

"...Someone has to fight this darkness." Orphea leaned on the walls. "Or the dawn will never come."

She sighed, letting her tears fall from the top of the wall to the earth below.

'You surely don't intend to go it alone?'

Dozens of plans ran through Orphea's mind, many of them tantamount to suicide- even with her amount of power. And oh, how she wished she was strong enough to just march back to Ravencourt and slay everyone who had wronged her. But she knew that was nothing more than a fanciful dream. To win this war, she would need more than one person. "...No. But I only hope Raena can forgive me for making a puppet ruler out of her daughter."


	15. Chapter 12: Determination

"It's frankly amazing that she wasn't killed instantly."

Orphea sat across from a woman in a white suit of armour. It was apparently metal, but the technology was definitely more advanced than any world that could pursue magic would have.

The medical ward had only a few patients. Most of the guards had died. Anybody that hadn't managed to escape the throne room had died. The armies of Ravencourt had either fled, or didn't need healing in the case of the defecting Grey Dragonflight. And with several healing heroes present, most minor injuries had been cleared in minutes. Of the sixteen beds they had, only three were filled.

The first was a guard who'd been stabbed, but not quite killed. He was stable, and likely to be fine by tomorrow.

The second was the minister of agriculture. Not an entirely terrible politician, given that he took a hit for someone from an eldritch blast as everyone was fleeing the throne room when the Demon Dragon burst in. The survivors numbered twenty, those who had been thrown through a portal by the late queen. Although he had complained the entire time, sliding between extreme defeatism and haughtiness.

And the patient who seemed to have been pulled back from death itself. Delia was unconscious in the third bed, tended to by no less than three dedicated healers. Alexstrasza herself had overseen four magical transfusions of life energy, mending the small yet lethal damages that had spread through her whole body. Morales had seen to reconstructing several organs. The Spectral Wyrm had needed to fix many bones. And even then, there was great uncertainty.

"...Will she be permanently crippled?" Orphea asked, sitting by the side of the bed.

The lady in white armour looked down uncertainly. "It's possible. But, she was beyond saving by all knowledge I had when we got to her. Miracles might happen."

Orphea watched as the medic looked at a portable screen she'd brought, reading vital signs from the patient. "...Alexstrasza, has Hanzo brought any news about the state of the army?"

Alexstrasza tilted her head. "They are uncertain of what to do, without not only a queen, but also much of the ruling council. It is only by the fact Delia's name can still be invoked that they have not shattered back into individuals." The Dragonqueen stood up. "He is currently helping hold those forces together, along with several of the other heroes that were swept up in the dimensions and left in Alterac." She walked across the room, inspecting the other few patients.

"So the question becomes... what do we do now?" The medic said. "A lot of us have willingly joined this cause, just to protect the innocent. We might be able to help hold that army together, but without anyone to lead it?"

"I can lead it." Orphea said confidently. "But I'll need Delia's word."

There was a coughing from the other bed. "Y... You?" The minister forced himself to sit up. "You, a filthy, deserting, Ravencourt noble? Lead our ARMY?! That's- that's so- absolutely disgusting-" He broke into a cough, grabbing his magical burn in pain.

"I don't intend to usurp." Orphea said calmly. "I'm simply the only person left with the ability to lead, unless Delia can recover."

"Then... make her recover..." Groaned the noble. "We'll never bend the knee... to the likes of... scum..."

Alexstrasza walked over and softly pushed the man down into bed, with a quiet whispering of 'Rest'. She took a few seconds before he seemed pacified, before moving back to Orphea. "Delia will be necessary. You may advise her, Orphea... but her authority will be fragile in these coming days. She was never the heir apparent. Her existence was no secret, but never played up like her brother."

The medic leaned forwards a little. "Erm... What about you, Lady... Er, Dragonqueen?"

"Alexstrasza." She supplied. "It's true, I know how to lead an army and even fight a war. However, I definitely do not know how to lead humans. I can give them quests and instructions, but true leadership? Understanding their needs beyond what keeps them alive and healthy? Inspiring morale? That requires another human, to do so in a way suited to long-term health." She laced her fingers together. "Of course, that's not to say I cannot contribute, or hold things together while a suitable leader rises. Perhaps the presence of the Dragonqueen will save the army from collapse, that you and Delia might lead it to victory?"

"A generous offer." Noted Orphea. "What's the catch?"

Alexstrasza smiled. "You do so remind me of a certain friend, acting so wise and foolish at the same time. I am sure you can work out why I, a being that exists to preserve life, would seek to oppose the chaos energies that consume the land over the mountains."

"Well, then there's no time to waste. How long do you think it will take Delia to recover without your presence?" Asked Orphea.

"Four days. And she might be able to move and issue orders. Fighting, however... she may need over a week."

Orphea wasn't sure whether to be surprised at the fact someone so greivously injured could recover so soon, or annoyed at the fact it wasn't faster. They were applying the best healing possible from both magic and science! But then again, Delia's list of 'fatal' injuries had had more than seven entries when they started to work on her. But she'd been given transfusions of life energy from only a few moments after she was injured! Yes, but she was veritably already dead at that point.

As the argument played out inside Orphea's head, there was a wheezing noise from the bed next to her.

"...Two."

Everyone's attention turned down to the princess of the realm.

"Two... days..." She whispered, teeth gritted from pain.

There was a fury like no other behind the words.

* * *

Orphea shuffled through a set of letters. The maps and plans for the army's march through Alterac had been left intact, but also planned around several events not happening, like an unexpected delay, the death of the queen, the deaths of a few top commanders, and the fact that the orcish defence had clearly been told to expect them, because Thrall had organised an impenetrable blockade around the Alterac Pass.

Orphea set them down, and looked at Delia, as she lay there awake. "Now, don't say a word. You can't damage your insides any worse, especially since you actually need them to command your army. I've made alterations to our war plans here, here, and here. I'll command the Grey Dragonflight to help blow open several unguarded routes, so we can easily disrupt the enemy formations by hitting the side or the back. So, shake or nod when I show you each strategy."

Lieutenant Morales blinked a few times. "She's not in the state to be doing intense mental tasks like planning a campaign! Let her rest!"

The minister of Agriculture actually forced himself to get up and out of bed, hobbling over as he spoke. "You will not bother the princess so! A cur like you is to have no part in our war machine!"

Orphea just rolled her eyes. "I see I'm the only adult here. The world hasn't stopped turning just for one injured girl. Every day we waste is another day for my father to find new minions, another day for Alexstrasza to fail to hold our army together, another day for my home- No, all the Nexus! To fall into ruin! So if you want me to plan out an assault that will make poor use of your army and get the men YOU are sworn to protect killed, be my guest!"

Delia shifted sitting up just a little as if to speak.

"Don't you dare injure yourself for a petty argument, Delia. We have more important things to do, and NO self-sacrifices to make." Orphea added. "Now, just nod or shake..."

It was arduous work, but Orphea made some noticable refinements to her strategy. Two days was hardly enough to plot out a full war, but much of the work- especially logistics- had already been taken care of. Still she trawled through catalouges of grain suppliers, blacksmiths, churches, apothecaries, merchants and mercenaries, and everything inbetween. She double checked every detail of the stratagem with Delia, finally coming to understand every aspect of the plans in full.

At the end of the day, as Delia laid down to rest and recover and Orphea retreated to her room, she felt an odd feeling of respect, mixed with disdain. King's Crest's fully operational war machine might actually have posed a reasonable threat to Ravencourt, even under her father's full intellect. She could certainly respect the practical, wise, yet passionate ways the army fought. But the disdain... this could all too easily have come for them one day, without the Dark Nexus. Maybe on a day when she was the ruler of the realm, and not her father.

And Orphea didn't know if she could beat them and keep her people from suffering losses. That was unacceptable.

* * *

The next day was uneventful. But the morning after...

Osiris dispelled the dream Orphea was having as easily as turning on a light. 'Intruder.'

Orphea's eyes snapped open, and she threw the bedsheet off, summoning magic to her hand and creating a purplish corrupt stain on the sleeve of her pajama top as her groggy mind didn't quite contain the power for the first few seconds it was waking up.

The door rattled a bit, and clicked, before slowly swinging open. Orphea was ready to attack or defend at a moment's notice, mulling over whether or not she needed the element of surprise or to ask for identification...

"Who's there."

"Hey, Orphea." Delia's voice was a little quiet, but still boiling with the same rage as when she'd whispered earlier. Orphea dispelled her magic and floated to the floor, seeing the patient standing there in her full armour, using her lance as a walking stick. "I'm ready. We need to leave now."

"..." Orphea looked up and down the battered girl, her armour's repairs not quite concealing the fact the whole thing had buckled and the enchantments nearly destroyed only a few days ago. 'Are you sure you're ready?' echoed through her thoughts, reaching the edge of her lips before halting. There was no time to waste. Delia was old enough to make her own judgements. "Okay. One minute to dress myself and we'll set out."

In a mere two minutes, Orphea was outside her room, dressed to kill, holding all of the war plans. Delia stood straight and strong, using her lance to keep the weight off her right leg- the one with three compound fractures still healing. As it turns out, you can only brace for so much.

They turned and started walking for the doors immediately. The army was a half hour's walk away at full speed, and Delia's horse had been moved there already. "I... apologize, Orphea."

"What for?"

"...If I'd performed my role better, maybe just dodged that one kick, our situation would be entirely different." She said darkly.

"It's no use to dwell on the past." Orphea replied. "Maybe if I'd had a closer relationship with my father then he'd never have opened the Dark Nexus. Maybe, maybe, maybe. All that matters is what's happened."

"I'm going to kill him, you know. Your father. He took everything from me." Delia hobbled along, and Orphea wondered exactly how much of her quick recovery was a vengeful drive. "I won't rest... I don't think I'm physically capable of resting until every trace of that man has been wiped away."

"Join the club. Want to swear vengeance or something dramatic?"

Delia huffed. "I swear, I'm trying to get my point across- that I'm out for blood. Not to be mocked."

"Yeah, but we're both teenage girls. Swearing vengeance is kinda our thing."

"Enough, Orphea..." Deila's voice was absolutely withering, the butt of her lance tapping the floor with an almost emotional noise. "I think I already swore vengeance. For my family."

"...Yes, fair enough. I'll help you as much as possible, Delia. And I didn't mean to tease." Orphea changed her tone, as her earlier quip only upset Delia.

"Good. Listen, if anyone tries to challenge you being here... then I'm using my emergency authority as the princess to make you my... er, what title do you want? No- what title will work best?" Delia looked forwards, hard-eyed. "I... I fear for my position. I'm not Verick. Anyone could challenge my authority or decide not to follow, especially if I misstep."

"I don't need a title, Delia. For now, treat me as a mercenary, as well as the forces under my command." Orphea put her hands in her pockets. "...As for playing politics... just get results. You can do that, right? Alexstrasza, Hanzo, Raynor... A lot more heroes too, all of them are standing behind you. They ought to be able to keep things steady, as long as you keep their favor."

"Results. Got it." Murmured Delia. "And giving speeches? Rallying crowds? Inspiring the hopeless-"

"Well, just be confident. You're not right now, and that will devastate your troops." Orphea explained. "Vengeance WILL be yours. Now work towards it like any other goal."

Delia took a deep breath, and nodded. "Alright. Thank you for your guidance. I'll have to work with you closely in this conquest... So I'm glad we can speak about things like this."

They walked across the town, to the barracks. No matter the pain in Delia's legs, or the ache in her arms, she didn't stoop or buckle under it. Anyone would have thought she was fully healed, even as her wounds screamed abuse, and little but cold rage held her up.

She'd never known she possessed the capacity for this kind of anger. It wasn't like fire and shadow, emotions welling up and out of control in the spur of the moment. Delia simply felt something cold and steely in her heart, certain of purpose and guiding her every action and decision. She would wipe out the Raven Lord and everything associated with him. She wouldn't be satisfied until she had.


	16. Chapter 13: Abyssal Symbiosis

"Soldiers of King's Crest. I am ready to lead you."

Orphea watched from the shadows of the garrison as Delia had climbed in front of her army. This was arguably the moment that would make or break everything, deciding if it was two girls and a handful of heroes versus all the world could throw at them, or a well-organised army marching against evil.

The crowd looked up expectantly. Delia's face seemed aloof, and her voice betrayed no emotion but was filled with clarity and purpose. "The Raven Lord thinks he has defeated us. And none can deny he struck a deep wound. But we are not dead- we are a wounded beast, one that has bitten off the hand he struck us with. His armies either lie dead, or have defected against his tyranny. He will need months to raise forces anew."

She looked over the crowd. Many faces watched her, many of them filled with doubt and hesitation. And she carefully put emotion into her words, adding all the pathos she'd seen Verick weild in court.

"We will march through Alterac, and defeat him. It will be swift- and the only significant resistance we will encounter lies in Alterac. The Alliance have sworn to aid us in that battle. I swear victory unto you all. And I swear I will show you that I am a worthy princess of the realm. So... we will march now! We will avenge our losses! We will restore peace to the Nexus! We will be the salvation of the innocents crushed beneath the Raven Lord's heel, we will be the brave men and women who did not stand down just because we were struck! We will win! For the Nexus!"

"For The Nexus!" Shouted Orphea, from amongst the sidelines, as she started clapping. The call spread like flame amongst grain, the audience exploding into applause and calls of 'For the Nexus!'. The effect one hypewoman could have with proper tone of voice was not to be underestimated.

But as Orphea looked around, she saw that some were not caught up in the cheer. Delia was regal and had constructed a confident mask, but not all could be swpet up in a rousing speech...

* * *

The army marched. Delia was at the front atop a mighty destrier, clad in her armor and projecting an aura of invincibility. The hint of weakness she'd shown to Orphea in the privacy of an empty street was locked deep inside her, seemingly never to resurface.

Flanking the princess of the moon were heroes. The ones who had willingly joined her army, despite having only found their way to her by a chaotic twist of the dimensions. Orphea saw she rode close to Alexstrasa and Deckard, with Hanzo and Raynor trailing behind. Perhaps there were more heroes within the ranks, but they seemed to be content to merely play their role for now, mixing with the common people to inspire and bolster them.

Orphea was only attended by one general, and a division of troops that was seemingly diminuitive. The Spectral Wyrm rode behind her, alongside many ashen men and women in seeminly minimalistic armour. Of course, they were in truth not likely to use such armour, and any damage they sustained wouldn't last long before mending itself. "Wyrm, can your dragons withstand the cold of Alterac? We stockpiled warm armours and clothing, there are many arming coats in the convoy."

The Wyrm shook her head, always keeping a small, lively smile. "We are creatures of magic. It is true that the frost may sap our strength like any mortal, but it is unlikely to bring our end. I ought ask you the same question, your jacket seems suited for fairer weather."

"It's enchanted." Orphea explained. "I know properly-enchanted armour takes a lot of time and money to produce, but I _am_ the heir to the most powerful realm in the Nexus."

"Excellent."

"You needn't worry about me. I want to be respected as a leader, so you'll forgive me for not acting my age." Orphea said firmly.

"Ha. Maturity isn't something so easily chased. It often comes naturally, by simply being responisble and demonstrating your wisdom." The Wyrm said, keeping a calm grip on her horse.

"...Yes. I shouldn't bring my age up unless they attempt to use it against me. That was foolish..." Orphea tutted. "Anyway. We're going to hold an in-depth strategy meeting when we make camp for tonight. I want to let you know that we're officially mercenaries, but Delia is taking my advice seriously. Given the lack of experienced generals after the assault on the castle, we're the best hope she has of breaking through the Horde without any serious losses..."

"I understand. In that case, I'll let you voice our thoughts- It's unlikely her other commanders will look too favorably upon me."

"Don't count yourself out. You ARE a dragon, and they'll automatically afford you respect for that." Orphea said confidently.

The Wyrm's smile grew a bit, as they continued riding.

* * *

Night fell as they were about half of the way to Alterac. Camp was set up in moments, and Orphea was outright impressed by the fact they created a small stables for the horses. The riding horse she'd been granted by Delia easily obeyed as one of the troops led it into the small building, and Orphea checked the moon. The strategy meeting would start in mere minutes- while not as crucial as Delia's first speech to her army, it was still vital to make sure the command structure obeyed and respected her.

Preferably without killing anyone. Fear might hold things together in the short term, but as soon as you weren't in a position to lord over your subordinates... it would end only one way.

Orphea fixed her outfit, her hair, mentally went over all kinds of different battle plans she'd reviewed, a dozen ways to ensure that the supplies would be enough without needing to restock... It would take ten days to reach Ravencourt, and ten to return. Not factoring in any fighting they did there.

The Spectral Wyrm seemed almost glowing with health as she came to attend Orphea, outside the door. Something of a contradiction, given that she was undead- but given the fact she'd been healed by Alexstrasza's flame, perhaps the 'undeath' she had been raised into was of higher quality than even Orphea had known.

"Are you ready?" The wyrm looked at the command tent, a hand on her hip.

"Of course. Now, we have to remember our places here. This is a foreign army, all of which have every reason to hate us if they believe we're the same as my wretched father." Orphea drew herself into a straight posture. "We need to show our worth while remaining composed, courteous, and above all, trustworthy."

"Then I shall leave it in your hands, girl. My calling was never politics. Lead the way." The wyrm let Orphea walk past her, seeing Orphea's coffin from the back. An ornate gold thing, foreboding and eldritch. She wondered if it might disturb anyone. But it wouldn't do to go without one's weapon...

Orphea was conversing with the man inside said coffin. Or rather, he was conversing with her. 'You remember how to handle yourself in such a situation? There's no room to misstep here...'

'Please, grandfather. I've trained for this all my life.'

'Overconfidence is a marvelous way to miss an obvious flaw.'

'By all means, find one. I've planned this.' Orphea smiled. Desk work wasn't always interesting, but it could certainly pay off.

She walked into the command tent with carefully measured confidence, her demeanor constructed to provide an incredibly specific personality. She had to appear wiser than her years. Confident and collected, but not overly so. A smart advisor, not a controlling one. A woman you would be hard-pressed to challenge the opinions of, but never defensive or hostile. And polite, on top of all of it.

Being that kind of person was difficult.

"Good evening, everyone." Orphea looked around the tent, seeing who was present. Delia had spread the war maps over the table in preparation, and had the plans in a neat stack next to them. Good. Next to her sat four people. Deckard, Hanzo, Alexstrasza, and a seemingly ordinary man in the armour of the King's Crest troops. One was missing...

Orphea took her seat, observing everyone. If Delia planned to use these heroes to create a new command structure... the plan had it's merits. They were experienced warriors, likely far more than anyone from the army. And all of them commanded much respect, as well as possessing plenty of intelligence. However... the common troops might not be too happy to be passed over for promotions, especially to people who had literally shown up out of nowhere. Morale could easily fall to pieces if this was handled poorly.

The tent flaps were pushed open, and Raynor stepped in. "Hey, folks."

"Take a seat, commander." Delia offered. "Our meeting is now in session. I have several points to go over... I ask your patience. First, logistics. Deckard, you're by far the best mathematician here- everything is in order?"

Deckard lauched into an explanation about exactly how many healing potions he'd brought, how fast food supplies were depleting, likelihood that any army equipment would fail...

Orphea carefully held her patience. She wanted to show that she was a good choice to be here, a valuable member of the army... but rushing her words in would make her seem a spoiled brat.

Eventually, Deckard's explanation closed, and Delia nodded. "With that settled, then Raynor, Hanzo, Hartmut? What's the situation with the men? Are they still confident now that we're on the march? Any problems, I need to know."

Raynor shrugged. "Too early to tell. I'm new here, might need a day or two to get them to open up. They all seem like good men, and I haven't seen much of the bad kind of officers." He leaned back. "But. I want to make sure you know what's keeping them going. Right now, you've promised them easy wins. A lot of them aren't keeping up on training, and trust me- training is the difference between a bunch of civilians and a militia."

Delia scowled. "They ceased training?! I'll give them some royal guard discipline. Slacking is NOT acceptable for a warrior." She shook her head. "Hanzo?"

"Your archers may be accurate, but they are slow, and easy targets. I may be able to conduct them, however I would never have accepted such mediocrity in my time as a leader." Hanzo said sternly.

Delia seemed visibly pained at the criticism. "Surely... they can't be that bad?"

"I did not say they were bad. They are mediocre." Hanzo asserted. "Much as the footmen, they must be trained more. We have a matter of days before we meet the enemy."

Orphea kept her voice serious, but without accusation or threat. "If we suffer a pyrrhic victory, or even take significant casualties, then that will place Delia's promises into question- and thus compromise her authority. We have to fix this... and in two days."

Hanzo frowned. "If we were to delay by a day, and I were to personally train them... they might at least learn how to survive in combat."

Raynor nodded. "Same here. I don't know swordfighting, but I know formations. Give me a day to drill them, and your chances will improve."

The ordinary-looking man, Hartmut, entered the conversation. "But can Delia issue such an order? I mean no offence, your highness... but the men's faith in you is as fragile as tissue paper. If you are seen to mistrust them... Or are even too harsh... Or... I... I fear to tell you that it would take a miracle for you to hold power, unless we can defeat the orcs as soundly as you hope."

Delia grit her teeth. "It's training. Surely they understand the importance?"

"I... I don't know what to tell you-"

"Unacceptable." Said Orphea.

All eyes in the room turned to her. Nobody but Osiris could know that fear was leaping inside her heart at taking so bold a move, but the path had become clear to her. Now to only travel it.

"Your job is to prevent problems like this occurring. I presume you are the highest-ranked officer in the army now, yes? And that you rose to your station legitimately?"

"Y-you have no right to speak to me this way, witch..."

"Then give the order yourself. If your own men do not trust YOU, then you need to improve." Orphea selected her next words carefully, alongside their delivery. "A leadership system is more than the one at the top. Without support, then even King Buchwald would fail. And right now, it is your duty as a general to support Delia. I know you've gained far too many new duties in the last few days, but unless you're going to step out, then a man of your pay needs to make sure that problems like this are avoided."

Loyalty. Money. Duty. The magic three motivators, and an appeal to each.

"...Don't be so condescending..." He whispered. "I... I don't..."

"I know your struggle." Said Orphea seriously. "And I would be an abysmal hypocrite to sit here and tell you something as borderline insulting as that without an idea of what to do. You need to convince everyone to partake in rigorous emergency training? But you worry about them falling apart under the order? Then I will have the Grey Dragons openly train as hard as they possibly can, almost a demonstration. An element of competitiveness, and seeing just how seriously we take this matter might make it easier to spur them to train. And if you pick your words, remind them that battles are lethal... I think you can do this without compromising Delia's promise to them."

The man went silent. "I... I don't know if I can... face them and just..."

Raynor leaned back. "Don't worry, man. I'll work out something for you to say. We're all in this together."

Hartmut nodded. "I'll do my best."

"Good." Orphea confirmed. "Now, Delia, are there any other matters that you want to raise?"

Delia picked up the stack of papers. "Battle plans. We'll have an extra day to cover them with all of you, but we'll review them now. And Hartmut? I recommend you work with Orphea. She may seem harsh, but I can vouch for her teaching skill."

Did the risk pay off? Was it the right impression? The one that would help Delia stay in control? Orphea wished she had a better chance to secure the loyalty and efforts of the man, properly learning what made him tick... but this seemed to have worked.

'Gambling everyone's respect of you so soon?' Osiris seemed amused.

'It was the best choice. I could sit back, but if I've learned anything these last few months... I HAVE to take an active role in events. I can't be passive for one second, or there's going to be another calamity.'

* * *

By tomorrow afternoon, Alexstrasza was approaching Orphea. "I must say... your words were bold, but your plan backed them up."

Lines and lines of men were marching, shields forming a wall that bristled with lances and swords. Squadrons of troops were locked in battle. Dragons were flying in formation, practicing hit-and-run strikes and pincer manouvres.

"...It was a risk, taking a stance like I did." Orphea said coolly. "But I don't want to abandon anyone- or anything- that I've promised to support."

"A noble stance... although one that can fall to ruin if your trust is abused." Alexstrasza noted.

"Who said anything about trust? If I'd fully trusted my father, I'd be on the other side of this war, consumed by the Dark Nexus." Orphea said, watching the troops keep going. "Hartmut seems to be taking to his role. A little too humble and shy, but he's overcoming himself."

"Indeed..." Alexstrasza sighed. She sat down on a rock, looking up to the Alterac Pass. "There is something I wished to speak with you about."

"Is it about my magic?" Orphea looked at her hand, knowing how easily darkness and chaos would come to dance on it.

"No. While I find such magics distasteful, I cannot complain about your control of them- Much like your friend, you show that darkness and death are not necessarily evil... as perplexing as the undead is. Are they truly undead? I can scarcely tell them from a living creature."

"You'd be best speaking to her about this. We enforce ethical necromancy thanks to our conquest of the Grave Keeper's lands, and assimilation of some of his laws. The standards we hold undeath to are very, very high. To the point it borders on reincarnation." Orphea explained, hours of reading the legislature coming to mind. "Darkness and death are tools. As evil as the wielder. Unfortunately, unconditional power is a very tempting corruption."

"Hmm... Well that does bring me to the point I actually intended to speak about. We are marching to war." Alexstrasza started. "I know it is necessary. But it would be all too easy for the bloodletting to turn unnecessary."

"You mean the orcs? They are brutal, but... I agree, they don't deserve to be slaughtered to the last. I know thier history." Orphea folded her arms.

"I have no doubts our numbers will grant the Alliance overwhelming victory. However if they decide to start hunting down the fleeing... I worry that I cannot stand against the needless lifetaking without shattering our army." Alexstrasza explained.

"Well, I'm honoured you came to me about this- but wouldn't Delia have been a better choice? I don't want to undermine her."

"It's true she leads the army... But that is all the more reason to carefully plot my request before taking it to her. She has much to learn." Alexstrasza said knowingly, looking around for any eavesdroppers.

"Well, it's as simple as asking for the most part. Our soldiers have no grudge with the Orcs. However Delia can alter the battle plans to make sure there's a clear escape route for the orcs, and to delay the arrival of the Alliance armies by a few minutes."

"Most appreciated, champion. Should you ever require life advice...know that I'll listen."

Orphea sat there a while longer. It was strange to hold an almost casual conversation with such an immensely powerful being, one who by all rights would never have time for most mortals... but not unwelcome.


	17. Chapter 14: Invasive Miasma

Day was dawning. The army was on the march, to the Alliance base. They had been for days, and today would be the one. Today they would march into battle.

Orphea hoped against all odds that this battle went well. That they didn't lose a single man. Victory was all but certain, but at what cost...

'Not like you, Orphea. Clinging to a hope that's not realistic.'

Orphea adjusted the strap on her coffin, tightening it. The upcoming battle was over an area that could take two full days just to walk across. 'I know... But saving my people- at least, reliably saving them- rests on having an army to protect them.'

Her horse plodded on through the snow, under a thick blanket. It wasn't a warhorse like Delia's, a simple palomino that Orphea had picked because its' mane had matched her hair. Its' job was only to carry her to the battle, not through it.

Orphea looked ahead forlornly as they rode. Delia was at the front, holding her spear. She'd assured everyone she was going to fight on the frontlines with the rest of the troops. Her injuries were hidden well. And she'd backed her words with a few arguments, like bolstering the morale of the troops, making sure they stuck to the plan of attack, and that someone of her skills shouldn't be wasted.

But Orphea couldn't ignore the possibility it was for revenge, plain and simple. Driving herself to death in an attempt to avenge her brother would be a tragic irony. There were few places in all reality more dangerous than frontline combat in a war. At least with other places you had the option to flee. But how to bring that up without risking Delia's position? The princess didn't have any more privacy than a tent's sheet of cloth at the best of times.

Orphea sighed.

'Talk to her about it soon. Until then, just watch her back in the coming battle.' Advised Osiris.

'...Yes, Grandfather.'

* * *

The snowfields stretched out before Orphea again. The last time, she'd been able to simply fly over all of them. Now, she would have to move with the army.

Speaking of the army...

They'd convened with the Alliance camp. Just as before, it was headed by Varian, but having housed several lots of troops sent ahead for a while it was bustling with activity... doubly so, as the Alliance had been gathering its' power in preparation for recieving the help of King's Crest.

"King Varian. I'm glad you've placed your faith in our plan." Delia sat atop her horse, lance in hand. Varian was on foot in the snowy grounds, but seemed to be unaffected by the chills.

"If it's good enough for Jaina, it's good enough for the Alliance." He held a sword that contained what seemed to be an orb of blazing light, looking out towards the icy plains.

They had a serene beauty that was undoubtedly going to be ruined by blood. Orphea wondered if whoever came to rule here would run an operation to clean it up after devastating the lands. Ruling needed conscious attention to all matters.

"We'll break the enemy lines and then flank them with dragons." Delia reminded Varian. "But in this cold we can't use the dragons for too long or they'll become frostbitten, so it's up to you to mop up the stragglers. In that time, we'll prepare a final charge into the settlement."

"A solid move... You plan to lead this charge, right?"

"If I show my people that I can lead them to victory, then hopefully there'll be no need for my best advisor to risk her own reputation keeping the men in line." Delia affirmed. She looked back. "Orphea, Raynor. We're going to begin our march in half an hour. Find the other commanders and have them corral their troops. Orphea, I'm trusting you to double-check that everyone knows what to do, and when to do it."

Varian shouted once. "Vanndar! Sound the rally!"

War horns blew. As Orphea went and found Deckard and helped him onto his horse, Raynor went and roused Hanzo and Alexstrasza, before Orphea made her way to Hartmut and The Wyrm, bringing them to alert with a simple "It's time."

As the dragons corralled into two columns, one of grey and one of red, soldiers poured from every nook and cranny of the Alliance base, a small section of temporary extra tents seemed to collapse into neat backpacks, and all of it assembled like a five-thousand, one-hundred and sixty-two piece jigsaw into formation in front of the commanders. Four neat blocks.

Varian stood before the smaller force of humans. Grizzled men and women who had been fighting for months in this cold to contain an old enemy within these peaks. Those who had lost so much to warring, who could never hope to forge a peace with the Horde beyond small mercies... but not the sort keening for blood. They stood with hard discipline, and looked up to the king and Commander Vanndar.

Delia sat atop her warhorse before the largest army there. Everyone was clad in white, with simple but effective armour and weaponry that seemed bland compared to Azeroth's ornate designs... But this army almost buzzed with energy. Orphea could feel it from here. It was like all of these people were prepared to ravage an army alone if they had to. And Delia raised her lance, with a banner tied around the neck, and the people trembled with warlust, like a volcano about to burst with flame and fury.

Orphea allowed herself a small smile. An army would never act that way around an unworthy leader. And such battle fever tended only to last a day. Better to get it out now.

Alexstrasza stood before her descendants. It was rare for one so concerned with the preservation of life to bloody her hands, but she had been the one to request mercy for the orcs. And now she was resolute and regal, even as her true form was concealed and her many children towered over her, the heat of their collective flames providing some much-desired warmth in these peaks.

The Wyrm stood next to Orphea, and the human forms of her undead dragons made a small column, dwarfed by the armies of Varian and Delia. But these were dragons, and would contribute as much as any of the other armies.

"Soldiers of the Alliance. We march on the Horde, and we will drive them from Alterac! We will win our long war, and know peace. On my mark, we move." Varian announced, voice almost pushing the chilled winds away.

Delia lowered her lance and gazed out over her army. "Soldiers of King's Crest. We fight not for vengeance, but for the good of all. We will break this threat, support our allies, and go on to destroy the evil that plagues the Nexus! I will lead you all to victory, I swear by my spear, the Gaederg! Varian, we will march at your will, and follow the plans."

"Come, men! WE MARCH!"

* * *

Marching must have been an awful chore for those that couldn't hover a few inches above the snow. Orphea was very glad she didn't have to test that musing for herself. This snow looked beautiful, but it was making the infantry's boots soggy and they were only now approaching the Horde's territory. These conditions would drag down any army, let alone one used to warmer weather.

But still, they were soldiering on. King's Crest was filled with vengeance, the queen a martyr. Her father was at the very least, dead. If he were still alive, then he'd never have allowed a situation like this to have any chance of developing- How would he have done it..?

'Personally, I'd have just pulled a few strings in the court and collapsed the whole system. It was unstable already.'

Orphea mused a moment, although the better part of her attention was looking out for any hidden archers sent to pick off targets. Underestimating the enemy was a sure way to lose. 'That is a practical approach, but if I wanted to annex them later then it would make the process slow and arduous. It might be better to cause a controlled breakdown of the leading political parties, and then start putting out some propaganda to improve opinion of Ravencourt. After that, then I could start to slowly fold the courts under their own people- with such corrupt and disunified ministers, then it would really play itself if I were to... leave only... the most unsuited royal alive...'

'Is that a conspiracy theory about your father?'

'...No. I don't believe such an elaborate plan could be executed by someone consumed by chaos.' Orphea dismissed the thoughts. 'Regardless of the fact I could convince Delia to do almost anything within reason, I really don't want the burden of taking care of another land on top of the now ravaged Ravencourt.'

A pang of something sorrowful hit her heart. She sighed, and cast the conversation out of her mind, looking around. They approached the battle.

* * *

The army reached the frozen river. Thousands of troops massed on one side of the bridge that marked the boundary between territories.

"We're here." Delia said somewhat redundantly. "Everything is going as planned."

Varian shook his head. "We may have a plan, but there will always be things you can't plan for or control. As soon as we cross that border, the Horde are going to act- and they're unpredictable. It's their greatest weakness, but it's hell to try and predict something as chaotic and stupid as an orc."

"Anytime you're ready, Delia..." Raynor said.

Orphea stole a glance in his direction. They exchanged the smallest of nods. A battle would be fought and a victory would be won, but there would be no betrayal of morals amongst them.

She took the reins of her horse and purposefully cantered forwards over the bridge, wary of archers- not that an arrow would break the plating she covered herself in. "War is declared! Soldiers- forwards!"

There was a short, unified cheer, and they moved forwards as one, crossing the bridge in a consistent line. The Horde were now officially screwed.

'Well, looks like there's going to be some bloodshed.' Noted Osiris.

'I have no problem with killing those who want to fight.' Orphea thought back calmly. 'I would rather we crush our enemies, to preserve our own people. It's up to us to make sure the civilians can flee, though.'

'Right you are- let's go. This is going to take a full day of ground travel in enemy territory, at least for them.'

Orphea nodded, as her division started to peel away from the main army. These well-made undead didn't have to worry about the cold so long as it wasn't so bad it literally froze them solid through magical protection. And with a few shortcuts available to flying dragons...

"Wyrm, it's time. Let's show them what your army can do." Orphea led the way, as the good-spirited woman jogged through the thick snows.

It was a full day of moving. Anyone with any sense of war knew that they were against several clocks now- how long would it be until the Horde intercepted them? How long until the Alliance reached the Horde village? How long until the cold started to wear them down?

How long left until chaos completely consumed Ravencourt?

Orphea and her company marched on, and on. More than once, she saw Horde on mismatched flying mounts up above in the sky, no doubt tracking her forces. But a seventy person flanking force really wasn't much cause for concern if you knew it was coming AND had the full might of two kingdoms charging your front door.

Still, stress couldn't consume her for twelve hours straight. "So, Wyrm... how do you feel about all this?"

"Fighting against the Raven Lord?" She asked, packed snow clinging to the cloth of many of her clothes. Bare skin touched the icy ground often, but had no blood or cells to be frostbitten.

"Well... he did kill the person who gave you your second life. And I'm nowhere near arrogant enough to think you're glad we conquered your homeland, even if we do our best for it."

"I actually didn't mind him while he was sane. He was conniving, and politically speaking he wasn't above some foul tactics, but he clearly wanted to do right by the world at large..." The Wyrm hopped over a bump of snow.

"Of course, that all changed when he broke the ancient law."

"Indeed. I would have fought him there and then for something like that, but I believed I was still bound by his magic."

"Did you ever wish you could kill him? If you hadn't been bound to obey him, would you have?" Orphea watched the Wyrm's face closely. The answer here was important to trustworthiness...

"Often. Especially at first." She confirmed. "Although all the methods I could realistically have killed him by are... against my beliefs. I'm not comfortable with sinking to treachery."

"And you're nowhere near fool enough to fight a Singularity's weilder head on."

"How generous your flattery is." She grinned. "You know, since we're both heading into battle soon, I'll offer you a little bet."

"Go on."

"If you can get us all through this fight without letting a single one of my dragons get damaged beyond repair, I'll tell you my real name."

Orphea smirked. "Oh, you never know what I'm capable of. Deal."

And on they marched. The sun set, and Orphea became aware of fatigue setting in. It was here that a dilemma presented itself. The plan had been discussed with Delia, but only as a possibility she could account for, not as a given.

They could press on through the night, and use cover of darkness and falling snow to elude the Horde scouts, getting closer to the village and guaranteeing a swift strike the moment the main army engaged. Or they could rest for eight hours in relative safety, and be sure they were all energised for the coming battle.

But the dead didn't tire. Only Orphea.

"Wyrm, we're going to stop for half an hour to warm everyone and renew the wards against the cold. Then we're going to press..." She yawned. "On."

"And you? You can't be drowsy in battle."

"I only need a power nap. Wake me up when you're all done, and we'll press on." She snapped her fingers and a small bit of magic blew through the snow beneath her. Orphea lowered down and took the coffin from her back, sitting on top of it.

'Hey. Respect for the dead?' Osiris asked.

'Respect for the living.' Orphea shut her eyes. It was strange, being in the middle of falling snows at night in mountainous peaks, but being a comfortable temperature. She could hear the sounds of many men and women renewing spells upon themselves and removing snow from clothing, and a good number wondering if the enemy would attack in this darkness.

'Not unless they're totally suicidal' was the answer to that. Orcs were strong, not immune to temperatures that could freeze you where you stood.

Her mind sunk into a dull half-sleep, doing what it could to restore her energy. All of this was so tiring, every day filled with intense action, constant critical thinking, and a shortage of sleep anyway. She almost drifted off there and then, although getting buried alive by the snow might have been enough to get through even her clothing.

"Orphea. We're ready to go." The words seemed to have come instantly.

As much as she inwardly protested, she simply gave a cool. "Good. No time to squander."

* * *

And so, as sun dawned, they lay in wait in the very forest Orphea had slain the Abomination in. This place seemed... tainted, somehow. Yet not by the Abomination. This feeling screamed danger, that something eyed you hungrily. It was the same as the monster that had mauled the Abomination.

"Is it just me, or does something feel unusual in this forest?"The Wyrm asked, as they massed at the edge of the trees.

"You're right. I feel something too." Orphea looked back. "I've encountered things in this forest, in fact. I don't know exactly what they were, but we should really be getting rid of them. Just... there are more pressing things."

"It's the faintest of smells..." The Wyrm shook her head. "Not our problem. No matter how dangerous a beast is, it's unlikely there's more than a handful if they're so rarely sighted. And large creatures take a while to grow."

"Indeed... but it would be a fine way to look the fool if we let this get out of hand. Maybe we'll report it to the Alliance, since they're only here to drive out the Horde. It'll give them something to do instead of persecuting the innocent leftovers." Said Orphea.

"Fair enough. While we're waiting Orphea, tell me something." The Wyrm leaned against a tree, looking to the sky for the sign battle had begun. "Do you believe what we're about to do is morally correct?"

"Hm?" Orphea raised an eyebrow, and a few dozen counter-questions to learn the specifics of the Wyrm's quip reached the tip of her tongue.

"We are likely to both save a few hundred, maybe even thousand lives, and condemn an almost equal number. Is that the correct thing to do? And why?"

"What kind of a question is that? This is by far the most mericful path we can take while pursuing our own goals- the alternatives are allowing a bloody-drawn out fight between the armies where the Horde are still crushed but can kill some of ours too, meaning Varian will want much more retribution against the village up there. Or we cut around Alterac entirely, and place Ravencourt in even more peril while letting the war up here play out with equal powers- a recipe for a bloodbath."

"Mhmm... but what gives us the right to choose who lives and dies? To dictate that because of things outside someone's control, they die?"

"Nothing gives us that as a right." Orphea said sharply. "But you vastly overestimate 'rights'. Just because my people have a right not to be subjected to torture, will a magical barrier spring up if someone is in danger of it? Rights only exist when there is a society. But as for killing in itself- everyone can choose to avoid danger. Those warriors could have all chosen different paths. The warriors who trained them could have chosen different paths. Everything is the culmination of millions of choices, and the most impactful ones to your life are the ones you make. They chose to take up arms, and in doing so they chose a life that would probably end in a puddle of their own blood. It's as close as you'll ever get to a consenting target."

"...Yes. I suppose I could ask what makes your life worth more than theirs if you choose your desire to live over thiers, but... you ARE a genuinely high-value life." The Wyrm sighed. "The battle should start soon."

They looked to the sky, and waited.

A few minutes later, an alliance war horn sounded. Cavalry had engaged, the Horde was too far in to pull back- not that they would do such a thing anyway.

"That's our cue!" The Spectral Wyrm jumped up from the tree, her dead form glowing with more lively energy than most people with a heartbeat. "Stay in formation, Orphea- Dragonflight, transform and make ready to fly!"

A few trees were knocked over. But the shifting of the entire expedition into greyed, undead dragons was done remarkably quietly, magical transformations announcing in screaming waves of mana and magic, but with little more than the rustle of leaves to one unattuned. The commander of the Horde was probably just now realising something was wrong.

"On my mark!" The Wyrm announced, human form cast aside. She stood at the forefront of a mass of dragons, wings shimmering with magic and head held high.

Orphea stood behind her, wary of getting smacked by a huge tail. She crouched a little, gathering magic to her coffin.

"Three! Two! One!" The Wyrm spread her wings and launched into the air. "FLY! WE STRIKE!"

Orphea and the Grey Dragonflight soared into the air on command, the dragons falling into a formation behind their leader. Orphea looked down, seeing the two armies moving to engage each other, Gryphons already occupying the attention of Horde fliers. A few of them riding wyverns broke off to try and intercept the wave of dragons bypassing the entire defence, and were promptly slaughtered by the gryphon riders or the dragons they sought to attack. Any ballistae or shamans below that might have brought the dragonflight down was out of range and unable to reposition quickly.

They were closing in on the village in a few moments. Orphea's task was grim, and she was taking it seriously- but she couldn't deny a small, prideful thrill at thwarting a whole army so quickly and easily. Down below were the huts, with plenty of wooden spikes to prevent an approach up the mountainside... And no defences that could stop a dragon.

"BOMBARD THE TOWN! AIM FOR THE STREETS!" The Wyrm called.

A storm of deathly fire rained, in concentrated balls. Orphea only watched as it rained on the pathways, reducing them to rubble and easily collapsing tents, while the stronger buildings wobbled and threatened collapse.

A second voice rang out across the skies, as loud as the Wyrms- yet somehow more commanding, directed to the land below. "FLEE NOW, OR BE STRIPPED OF YOUR LIFE!"

Orphea cast her gaze further afield, and saw bright orange flames tinged with red smoke and magic strafing the village. In a matter of moments the entire place would be beyond saving... There was a reason most races were especially careful not to anger dragons without proper preparations.

The Wyrm called again, to the village. "THOSE BELOW... YOUR SETTLEMENT WILL BE DESTROYED. WASTE NOT YOUR PATHETIC LIVES."

"Sure hope Varian can't hear us from here..." Orphea muttered. She blinked. There was a disturbance in the air... Like...

'Lightning strike!'

Orphea leapt from the air, dark energy manifesting in her hand for a moment. She threw her hands out to either side, and a huge curtain of chaotic miasma spread out across the sky, hardening into a magical barrier.

A huge bolt of forked lightning leapt from the blue sky, and Orphea had no clue what happened for a few seconds. All she knew was that she'd never felt that much pain in a single tenth of a second. She then went on to know that her sense of hearing wasn't working, and she was falling.

'Orphea!'

'..?'

'ORPHEA!'

Her mind fluttered, seeing the swarm of dragons above looking down at her. Funny... she could swear she'd fulfilled some kind of duty...

'Oh, of course your heart stopped.' Grumbled the voice in her head. 'Get your head in the game, I'll hold your body together until one of those dragons remember they have healing magic...'

Her descent slowed, and Orphea's thoughts slowly started to clink forwards, restarting. Struck by lightning. Had to prevent her forces from being destroyed. Dear gods of all worlds, that _hurt_. Lightning. Had to come from somewhere. 'Grandfather. Take me to the caster. We have to protect our army.'

'Oh for...'

'Nevermind, I think I can take him.' Orphea managed to refocus, flipping in the air and looking down. Her defences had been weakened, but she was fuming. Nobody. Nobody under any circumstances would keep her from her goal. Good or evil, she wasn't one to be impeded. And pulling a card like that...

An observer would have called it a failure in planning. Something that anybody in the shaman's situation would have done.

To Orphea, it was a cheap, unfair move pulled out of the rear end. She hit the floor running, going up the well-walked wastes straight to the campfire she'd been at once before. She could sense exactly where that bolt was called from. And she would show them exactly what Ravencourt did to it's enemies!

She ran up to the campfire, seeing a blindfolded orc looking out over the valley. He spoke, out into the war below. "This situation seems familiar... You betrayed Thrall's trust. You were the last hope to prevent this."

"I don't owe you a thing!" Orphea flung the attack forwards, temper gone. "You dragged me here against my will the first time, and then sent me into a situation that would have killed any other girl!" She leapt forwards and swung her two arms forwards, two jaws of purplish dead magic closing in front of her. Drek'thar dodged, flicking a pair of small, chunky blades into his hands, and twisted to prevent a few more balls of deadly magic hitting him in the chest, the blasts burning his knuckles. "You suddenly talk to me like I'm a traitor to your cause?!" Orphea roared.

"All the deaths below are on your head! EVERY LAST ONE!" Drek'thar leapt forwards, reaching to drive a weapon into Orphea's chest. She lashed him across the face without warning, darting to one side and flinging out a wave of spikes along the floor, purple magic tainting the area.

"And I should choose them over my own people?! Over the Nexus itself?!" She flicked her wrist and a jagged tendril struck like lightning, only for a bolt of real lightning to leap from Drek'thar's weapons and save him at the last second.

"Thrall! Rehgar! Gazlowe! Zul'jin! Everyone we look to fights a doomed battle you have orchestrated! What will the Horde become without it's legends?!" He panted for a second, and started to draw up elemental spirits to the area. Orphea could feel them mustering for attack. "...But at least they can die a glorious death. Now I am just a wretch who failed in the simplest of tasks. I could not even strike down _one_ of your troops with my spirits."

"Just go away. And don't come back." Orphea held a hand in front of her, a void of energy in her palm. "I'm giving you one last mercy. Conflict was unavoidable. It's only because I arranged it that this village has been destroyed instead of the people living inside it. You want your people to have a leader? Then run with them. Now. And take from this what lessons you will about picking fights."

"PINKSKIN! DIE!" Drek'thar lunged. He was wolflike, shrouded in elemental energy. Everything a shaman aspired to be. An exemplary orc.

Orphea made a small gesture with her hand, and two walls of teeth clapped shut from either side, halting him an arm's length from her face. He coughed blood. Orphea looked on passively. Taking his life was no more difficult than a man on the executioner's block. "You had your chance." The two walls closed completely, and then disappeared, leaving only the broken body behind.

There was a small moment of silence as Orphea saw the armies clash below. The Horde was outmatched utterly. It's common troops died in droves. It's legends would eventually find themselves ganged up on and cut down, no matter how good you were you had a limit.

A gust of air and a thump behind her announced a landing dragon. "Those who would not stand and fight this hopeless battle are fleeing to the uninhabited plains." The Wyrm announced. "...And I must say... thank you. You saved one of my brethren, taking that hit."

"That's good." Orphea said. She spared a last look at Drek'thar. "Something finally went right."

"Indeed. Are you hurt?"

"...Yes."

"Ah, I'll restore you." The Wyrm gathered life energy, willing it into Orphea as easily as breathing. She felt her heart restart, having forgotten it was even stopped.

There was another few wingbeats, and a slightly softer thump of a huge creature landing. Orphea turned to see a dragon that could only have been Alexstrasza sitting behind her. "Some must be lost in order for anything to be kept. I am deeply sorry that we had to do this... and I must express thanks for sparing those you could."

"I do not feel guilt, dragonqueen."

"You did what you had to." Alexstrasza said mournfully. "But... it was my duty to find another way. So too is every failure they have committed partially mine."

Orphea nodded. "I only ask for your continued aid."

"Of course. Your mercy is not a deed I will forget. And..." Alexstrazsa looked at the Wyrm. "I cannot believe you are undead. Truly, the flame of life in you has been extinguished... but... Nor does it burn you. You know of mercy. Of laughter and loyalty, and also of tears and freedom." She drew herself to perfect posture. "You are no enemy of the Red Dragonflight. Know that we will welcome interaction with your Grey Dragonflight, Ereshkistrasza."

"I... thank you, dragonqueen." The Wyrm said, dipping her head. "...And I apologize for raising arms against you, those days ago."

Orphea looked up knowingly. Alexstrasza had almost certainly been placing a huge amount of trust in Orphea against her better judgement to allow any undead into an alliance with her. Seeing that they had evoked such a reaction... she didn't want to know how differently this could have gone if the Wyrm had ordered the aerial strikes target the houses instead of the empty streets. Fulfulling the trust was an advancement of her own goals, too. Always better to have powerful allies if needed, and when fighting her father... the last thing she would need is the Red Dragonflight hunting her.

"So, that's your name, Wyrm?" Orphea smiled. "I like it. I hope you won't mind if I share it with Delia?"

Ereshkistrasza tossed her head sarcastically. "Ah yes, just throw away the mysterious title I've worked to maintain for years. But never mind that. We have dead to tend to. We can all reminisce once this tragedy has been laid to rest."

Alexstrasza shuffled her wings, life magic radiant around her. "A good decision. I will see the bodies burned, and the land grown over. Then I shall mourn, and life will be able to go on."


	18. Chapter 15: Bond Of Anguish

The flap to Orphea's tent rustled, as if struck with a fist.

"Come in."

Delia stepped into Orphea's tent. "I heard that you knew the general you killed."

Orphea nodded. "Mhm." She stretched, and sat crosslegged on a small bed. There was a hardy arctic grass below her feet, the only hint a permanent village had once stood here.

"...How did you know him?"

"He had me dragged into the village to solve his problems." Orphea said. "Although to avoid telling a half-truth, he didn't treat me badly. Especially considering what the records say about orcs. But he was a fool of the highest order to think I would go out of my way to save his people."

"That's... cold."

"It's called being remotely competent. Any other course condemns the nexus. They could get out of our way or die, and we gave them ample opportunity to move."

Delia nodded half-heartedly. "You make morality seem so clean-cut."

"I don't deny it's a complicated thing when you're not fighting against an inherently evil force that had to be sealed away for thousands of years. And in this fight, we weren't. But avoiding the fight would leave that evil unchecked, right in the middle of the lands that are mine to protect."

"Anyways, I have some good news." Delia stepped into the tent fully. "Varian and Alexstrasza have both agreed to accompany us permanently. Unless they see reason to split with us, then for now they'll both obey me."

"Oh, very good." Orphea noted. "How did you convince Varian to join us? I imagined he'd be less than pleased that we didn't wipe out the orcs to the last."

"He doesn't like them at all, but he's not the sort to approve of killing the defenceless." Delia came in and sat down.

Orphea looked over her. Scratched armour. Dry skin, any makeup long gone. And a small shake, through her whole body. "Was this your first real battle?"

"...Yes. I want to scream. I... killing... how did you do it so easily?"

"Very carefully tailored mental training." Orphea answered seriously. "You're not going to break down. You can show your doubts in private, but even what you've already let slip is risky. The soldiers look up to you for an example."

"..." Delia shut her eyes, and tears ran down her face. "I won't give up. I won't give anything less than my all. Not until my family are avenged."

Orphea got up and buttoned the tent flap. This was their victory. It was a shame that it could be bitter even when they'd won by all regards. "Everyone reacts differently. You're sure you'll be okay in the coming battles?"

"Gaederg is no duller than when I first drew it. And... I... it's easy to be selfish. Killing is easy when you've practiced it day and night for ten years." Delia murmured. "...Aren't I pathetic. The winner, the one alive at the end of the day, shedding tears as if I lost."

"You shed no tears for your loss." Said Orphea. "For what it's worth, you're better than a girl with uncontrolled, often nasty emotions, like me. You cry for your enemy, and give your all for your friends. I think that's some serious knightly stuff." She sat down next to Delia. "Get the sad feeling out now, and then go and get drunk with all the other legal drinkers in the army. It'll do you good."

"Drink? I... Should I really..?"

"Not too much. But camaraderie will heal your spirit. I'm sure." Orphea patted Delia's shoulder, and hugged her. It would have been easy to forget she was five years Delia's younger.

They stayed there for another few minutes as Delia quietly wept, but the tears dried up eventually. The shock and horror of battle faded from its' worst. Orphea could see understanding dawning in Delia. Why so many generals had to preach glory in battle. Why war was something so many rulers strove to avoid. Why there were so few true heroes of combat, good folk that could fight with everything and find themselves happy were few and far between. Those people were rare and special.

Delia took a shaky breath, and stood up. "...I won't let myself be crushed like this again. Not by my own choices. I'm sorry to have imposed on you, Orphea."

"Don't be. I called you out." Orphea said. "Now come on. Some social interaction, and a few coping mechanisms that aren't unhealthy."

"...How do you cope? With killing?"

"I don't. I don't feel much about taking a life." Orphea answered. "And before you say anything, that's a weakness. I know why my father called it a strength, but have you seen how terrifying I can be to my own allies?"

"...Wow. I mean... that's..."

"Heartless, I know. But it will do the nexus good. Unless, of course, I fail because I scared off my own army." Orphea shrugged. "Now! Let's go. There's going to be a few days of travel before there could possibly be another serious conflict, so you have time to compose yourself."

"You? Everyone adores you, Orphea. You put a lot of work into your speech. With a little getting used to, you could easily surpass me as an inspiration." Delia said in surprise. "I've seen your powers, and they're abyssal, but not repellent."

"Heh. You better work to keep your place then. Don't want your army charmed over to the side of Ravecourt, do you?" Orphea said lightly.

"Tsk, as if they're so disloyal." A shaken smile spread over Delia's face. "Come on then. Let's go enjoy the win."

* * *

Victory was like proof of Delia's worthiness to the soldiers. Some were shaken like Delia, even to the point that they didn't want to come out to the mess tent. Others were drinking and cheering in the knowledge they'd swept through their enemies. But all of them were united behind their princess.

Orphea lost count of how many people surrounded Delia, heaping praise onto the girl for guiding them to victory. It was easy to spot the veterans amongst the crowds, the ones who cheered her the most for her low casualties.

Orphea sipped water in the corner. This room was brimming with celebration, more than she'd ever seen in her own homeland. A Ravencourt celebration was exactly one glass of wine, perhaps a book or card game, and good spirits all around. Although she wasn't blind to the fact that her father's celebrations may well have been rather muted.

The Spectral Wyrm was chatting her heart out to Alexstrasza a few paces away. Orphea could see Hanzo and a few other dragons around the little collapsible table, but none of them could get a word in as mother and distant daughter caught up. She wondered how much that conversation would teach Alexstrasza about the Nexus. After all, it could prove quite the enigma to those who hadn't been brought up knowing it's secrets.

"Hey. Everything alright, missy?"

Orphea looked to the side. The man standing there was out of his iconic armour, but the face was unmistakable. "Don't worry. I'm more than used to the messy parts of war."

"You sure? I mean, I know this is the crazy place we call the Nexus and you could be some... million-year-old god with a planet shaped like your face and your own secret powers going around looking like a girl, but... well, guess I just want to make sure you're okay. Ain't no fun being a kid exposed to this stuff."

"You're a good man for checking, Raynor." Orphea sat up. "But I really am okay. I was prepared for this for longer than you want to know."

"Alright. If you're sure, missy." Raynor sat down. "So... you know anything about this Nexus place? I've met people like you. Ya know more than you let on, that's for sure."

Orphea smirked. "Guilty as charged. You're bound to find out sooner rather than later that I'm the heir apparent to the country we're invading. And as such, I AM privy to a few bits of lesser-known information about the Nexus."

"Know anything about how we got here?" Asked Raynor. "Not to be rude, but I think I left the oven on back home."

"Ha. Rest assured that anything you were doing in your homeworld has continued unaffected." Orphea leaned back. "The first thing you need to know about the Nexus is that nobody actually comes or goes here."

"Hm? Go on..." Raynor leaned closer.

"The only permanent residents of the Nexus are the ones that are born here. Anything- yes, anyTHING else is a spatial echo." Explained Orphea. "A quasi-magical afterimage created when someone accomplishes a feat that changes their universe measurably."

"A... what?"

"Ghost. AI. Think of it like... an impression. A snapshot picture of how you were when you did something world-changing. Those come here to the Nexus, from many different worlds. And here they persist, until they eventually fade. It's why you can't die permanently. I'm sure someone that's been here a few years like you has seen a handful of resurrections."

Raynor blinked. "Hell. Girl, that's... actually, that's good news. Wonder if I'll run into some old buddies. Or Uther. Wait, how'd you know it's been a few years?"

"We keep our records. They're very thorough. Uther Lightbringer, right? Did something happen to him?"

"Ah... it was while we were at the castle. Took a hit for me, from the leader of that army. We were friends before. It's actually part of why I was so sure I wanted to join up with you guys."

"The other part?"

"Things can go pretty bad if you don't at least offer some moral support, maybe a bit of stern advice. That's a lesson I learned the hard way." He took a sip of whiskey, and sat back. "Anyway, I'll make sure Varian doesn't do anything a good man shouldn't. You just worry about the big picture, kid. Call me if you need a bit of Terran help."

Orphea smiled. "You trust me to need guidance less than the king of the Alliance?"

"Hey, who grew up here?" Raynor looked around, before smiling. "And between you-me, I think you made a good first impression with the whole mercy thing, and maturity."

It was a very rare occasion that Orphea felt genuinely gratified by a compliment, as Raynor got up and mixed into the crowd of soldiers. As it was, she couldn't keep herself from grinning a simple, happy grin as she sat in the corner.

* * *

Marching seemed to be spurred by a divine wind at everyone's backs. It could have been the victory, the life magic radiating from Alexstrasza, or the lack of snowstorms. But Orphea felt like she was at the forefront of a tsunami, backed by immeasurable power.

'Temper yourself. Only a small measure of these troops answer to you, and you are guiding them into your own homeland. Your every decision will be counted in lives from here forth.' Warned Osiris, the mountain ridge of Alterac starting to come into view.

'I'll save everyone that can be saved. For now, let's get out of here. The cold is clearly taking a toll on people.'

Orphea floated up, looking around. There was the spot where she'd been ambushed before, and dragged down to the village. Now there was nothing there, no sign anyone had ever been there.

She flew down. "Delia, report. I've scouted the points I know are good for ambushes, and we're clear."

"Excellent. At this rate, we'll be at the outlying village we're stopping at by tomorrow." Delia kept her lance on her back, riding with one hand and holding a map in the other.

"Remember, when we descend the cliffside, then I have to go first to ward off the forest dwellers. The last thing we want is irate nature spirits cutting off our exit plan." Orphea warned.

"Don't worry, I've got it. Still... Hartmut!" Called Delia.

"Yes ma'am?" The man shouted just a little too quickly to seem collected. But it was a vast improvement over the fish out of water who'd been given the job a few days ago.

"Keep an eye on the armies and the formation. Make sure Orphea is leading the way as she requests."

Hartmut gave a quick nod. "Understood, your grace!"

Orphea blinked. "He's changed an awful lot in a few days."

"Our joint gamble paid off. I kept my promise, and now the people trust me. It's simple. Not all politics is complex." Delia put both her hands on the reins, keeping her point at the front of the army.

"You're lucky, having yourself surrounded by trustworthy people." Orphea noted. "Trust is important, but so is suspicion. A good ruler always has a plan in case their subordinates have an ulterior motive- and an excellent one makes sure that plan doesn't alienate them."

"What's yours?" Delia asked.

Orphea raised an eyebrow. "It would hardly be a good plan if I was transparent about it."

"Hm." Delia looked ahead, at the approaching cliffs. "I can fight through most foes- this spear may not be a legendary weapon, but the castle smiths put a great deal of time and effort into making it the best and most durable it could be. And I never neglect training. But... I suppose if someone were to plan to come for me in my sleep..."

"You have guards, and thoroughly screened ones. King's Crest has always commanded more loyalty from it's common folk than Ravencourt." Orphea pointed out. "I think the only time you'd actually be vulnerable would be in battle. Outnumbering a target is the easiest way to bring down something out of your league."

"Wait, Ravencourt's people... they're not loyal to your crown?"

"...It's... well, they..."

"If I've brought up something painful I-"

"No. Ravencourt is my home. It has horrors and joys, just like anywhere life exists." Orphea said after a moment. She waved and finger in the air, wisps of indigo and purple taking material form for a few moments. "We suffer through food shortages sometimes, and that causes riots and rebellions... But at the end can forge great alliances and give rise to hardy, compassionate people. Our dominant school of magic is rooted in darkness and chaos, and we explore how to use it for good... and fall prey to it's unconditional power. People are granted the freedom to live as they please so long as they follow our laws, but many abuse that freedom to kill, or in the Witch of the Hollow's case... Ugh, nevermind. Glad she's dead."

"That bad?" Delia kept riding forwards. The snow seemed to have become just a little colder, in tadem with Orphea's expression as that name passed her lips.

"Nothing impactful on a large scale. But she would have served Ravencourt much better rotting in a cell."

"That bad. Wow." Delia gave a low whistle. "So would you say your politics are more... authoritarian, or libertarian?"

"Auth... what? I've not heard the terms before."

"How much power does your rule have over the people?"

"Ah, I see..." Orphea put a finger on her chin. "...Well, from a legal standpoint, we're an absolute monarchy. What the holder of the singularity says is law. Most realms are that way, singularities are incredibly powerful."

"Which is why that coward of a lord had to seal the power of ours." Delia sighed.

"Well what would you do in that situation? Anyway, in practice... it's a little more democratic, and my family was never so unaware of the lower levels of society as to deny them basic rights. Although there's a clear, sharp divide between those with power and those without. And we've more than our fair share of madmen."

Delia nodded, whatever words she would use to continue the conversation dying in her hesitation. They made thier way onwards, through the rocks and snows.

* * *

Marching through the forest was tangibly different to Orphea. Before it was a relaxing scene, ruined by her own dehydration and exhaustion. As tranquil, and naturally threatening as any old collection of trees and animals. There was even the gentle hint of nature magic, and something uplifting and simple.

But now...

"What happened here..?" She whispered.

The trees seemed sickly. And not by any kind of physical ailment or poison. If someone had driven copper nails through them or dumped acids into the soil, then there would have been some sign of tampering. There would be some trees and bushes unaffected, that might resist the attack. This, though... this was absolute. The whole area was dying. Leaves that should have been in the flourish of summer were dying on the branch, some decaying alive. Bark was patchy, and sometimes showed a core that was almost dusty.

Orphea was no arborist, but she had a fairly solid suspicion as to what had happened here. Words spoken months ago vaguely echoed, the promise to protect this forest while she was gone. The promise had clearly been broken.

One of the generals stooped for a moment to pick up a pink flower. Several of the petals were withered, others looked like they'd bursted with water. He adjusted the bow slung over his shoulder, keeping pace with Alexstrasza. "..." Hanzo looked at the dulled pink severely, before leaning towards Alexstrasza.

"It reminds me of my home. In more ways than one." His accent was prominent, but he'd clearly mastered english. Orphea had no problem listening in. Knowledge was power.

"I do hope your home isn't suffering the taint and contamination here. This forest has been overrun with chaos magic, infused with malicious energy." Alexstrasza reached out and touched the flower, and it returned to a single healthy pink blossom.

"..." Hanzo bowed his head silently.

Orphea had heard all she needed to. Chaos spreading? Malicious chaos? That could only be the Dark Nexus. If it had reached here, broken through Brightwing's unwitting containment line... Time was ticking.

Perhaps it had already run out.

That thought was more terrifying than anything that had crossed Orphea's mind when she was fighting against the Horde. Battle against a straightforward foe was straightforwards. Battle against a foe that had already won? Already destroyed everything you cared for while you gathered the strength to oppose it?

She shook her head. Hope had yet to die. But why, why was it so easy to share dark wisdom and certainty with others when such a simple doubt felt like it was taking a bite out of her heart?

* * *

They finally made it to the village. Days had passed as a blur of observant worry. Orphea recalled the last time she'd been here. This place was a tiny town, barely five hundred people. But smaller communities were always more tightly-knit, and they'd been some of the nicest, most mellow denizens of Ravencourt. It had also been the closest city to the exodus from the town on Ravencourt's edge that had been evacuated while she fought in the square.

They introduced themselves by firing an arrow from the walls down to the front of the army.

To her credit, Delia didn't flinch. Neither did her horse. She simply stopped, and let the arrow hit the floor a few inches short of it's target. "Orphea."

"They... they knew I was returning with you. Unless everyone carrying the message died."

Delia looked concerned for a moment. "Raynor, how do you propose we handle this?" Orphea was only impressed at how smooth and collected Delia was acting. Today seemed to be a good day for her.

Raynor got a bit closer, and rolled his visor down. He was silent for a few moments. "Just zoomin' in, folks. Let's see... You guys have flags of truce? That work here? Because the walls are bristlin' with weapons. Bows, guns, the works. The place is gonna be damn near impenetrable if you try and force anything."

"Good. I'm at least glad my people have taken the initiative in keeping themselves safe..." Orphea said. She stepped forwards. "I'll put out a little power, if you'll allow me. That should tell them I'm with you."

"And if they still fire on us?" Delia asked sternly.

Orphea smiled. "You're getting better, Delia. Keep thinking that way, and maybe I won't have to spend my alone time teaching you how to lead."

"No time for sass. Signal them immediately. Alexstrasza, please watch over my army..." Delia grit her teeth and clenched the reins of her horse in her hands. She looked around, sure only her command staff could hear her. "I... something about this place unnerves me. I can't drop my guard at all."

"It's the chaos magic. Chaos is not inherently bad, or even harmful. But this chaos... this is from the Dark Nexus. And that actually IS inherently bad, for reasons I can't explain in five seconds." Orphea floated up a little, all too aware that a flying target was so much easier to aim at. No further arrows flew, although she was fully prepared to deflect them.

Orphea waved her arms, and purple matter solidified. It was with some surprise that she found she could call up anguish at will, despite feeling neutral right now. True, the snaking whip of purple thorns and spikes wasn't as corporeal and impressive as most, but this was an advanced, complex magical spell. Based on something as unreliable and chaotic as the emotions of a teenage girl.

Like a dancer, she made a graceful twirling motion, twisting the whip around her in a spiral, and letting it serve as both proof of identity and a nice little display of skill. It dissipated after a few seconds, and Orphea floated down to touch the ground.

No response. She started walking forwards. The sound ofa horse taking a step made her spin on the spot. "Hold. I'm going to approach alone because I'll survive an attack from the walls. I'll have them bring someone out here."

Delia halted immediately. "Very well."

Orphea walked out into the silent approach to the town walls. Under most circumstances this would have been the height of idiocy, walking an important authority figure towards a possibly hostile fortification alone. Most circumstances didn't account for a protective magical field around said figure. That headpiece really was a handy thing.

But to everyone's relief, redundant. The walls did not attack. Nor were they so tall that Orphea felt any need to shout in an undignified manner to be heard. "People of Locksfell, I have returned as I promised! I ask you place your trust in me, and send out someone to speak with the army I have brought. I don't know what has been done to you while I was gone, but I saw the Raven Lord's changes, and I swear to you- I am here to correct his wrongdoings."

There was a general murmuring on the walls, before it soldified into a few people calling to open the gates. It was both a deep relief and a smug satisfaction to see them clank open as ropes were released, with a few uncertain armed men standing behind it. Perhaps a militia?

Someone stepped forwards from amongst the soldiers, walking out into the field confidently. Orphea dropped to the floor, and looked him in the eye. Who was this..? Likely the mayor, judging by his slightly fine clothing, older age, and the speed with which he was selected to come out and parley with an entire army.

"Greetings, sir. If you'll step this way, I'll bring the commander of this army to you." Orphea called coolly.

"Orphea? Is that... you?"

"Yes. What is your name- It would terribly foolish not to ask."

"I am Nelson, the leader of this town's militia. We... we thought it was just a rumor, that you were coming back to help us." The man stepped out. "We are short on time. Can you help us?"

"Of course. But follow me first." Orphea beckoned, and guided Nelson over towards the waiting army. Delia was atop her horse, imposing and with an absolutely dire look on her face and her lance and shield at the ready. Compared to this man who was carrying nothing but a bow.

"Does this man have the authority to speak for the town?" Delia said, a trace of ice on her voice. "And more importantly, will our relief force be fired on if we try to approach?"

"I don't think so- Nelson, you can speak as you want. I'll support you as needed, but bear in mind this army is Ravencourt's best hope unless things went very differently to how I expected."

Nelson gave a short bow. "Greetings, officer. There is no need to parley- I am desperate for any form of support in these times, and will gladly host you in exchange for some safety while we repair our walls. Will you both listen to our plight, before you come into our city? Or... perhaps you should come in first. The lands are dangerous." He stood straight and looked to Orphea.

"...If Orphea is willing to trust you, then I will accept your offer." Delia softened a little. "I want to know everything you can tell us about the current situation. Especially why you fired on us on sight. But for now, let us move somewhere safe. I will extend to you what aid I can."

There was a tense air about the whole army as they walked into the city. Yet Orphea felt like she was soaking in new life, familiarity and comfort in every inch of the place. Dark, shadowy land with plenty of stone buildings. The home she'd built all her life.

* * *

In only a few minutes, the commanders of the army had assembled in the city's hall, a modest little building that was actually quite well-fortified. Delia sat there with a rigid posture, the way someone sits when trying too hard to look the part. Orphea listened as the man spoke. His information accounts were partial, but she could put together a very good picture.

Things had gone almost exactly as she'd expected.

At first, everyone remained loyal to the Raven Lord. Decades of cold, firm but just leadership and genuine success at making the choice best for the people had built a firm trust. The knowledge he had been consumed by the Dark Nexus was almost entirely contained. And so as he started to severely abuse that trust, killing those who failed without warning and imposing meaningless laws, there had been obedience.

After a week or two, when people were whispering rumors of a sudden insanity, some dark curse overtaking the Raven Lord, that these new arcane constructs were imbued with a sinister, dark energy and often acted maliciously... people had started to duck down, try and ensure they wouldn't be next. Others had started to band together, to try and discover the truth. But the second someone had acted out...

It was treated like open rebellion. A mad, half-effective set of rules were enforced, simultaneously creating chaos, fear and resentment, and leading to a great deal of indiscriminate killing. In days, the goverment and armies were held together only by the fear of death should anyone try to step out. And then the Raven Lord had continued to retaliate for this first percieved slight and every little action after it, until finally bringing forth and unleashing scores of monsters from the Dark Nexus; hounds that chased people down in the streets and tore them apart, floating collections of crystals that could have been birds or fish- but rained death regardless, and twisted copies of men and legend alike, that bore mighty and terrible powers and the worst intentions.

Nelson's eyes dipped to the floor as he reached the end of that part of his story. "My... family was visiting the capital. Only my son made it back, and... he's barely spoken a word since. The killings were so sudden, so vicious... and... nobody was spared. Not a child, not a woman, not one person who was caught. Very few people escaped that day. The capital is all ruins, save for the tower."

He launched back into his explanations, as Orphea deciphered them into what had almost certainly happened. After the capital city was slaughtered, nobody heard any other orders from the Raven Lord. It was like he'd forsaken all pretense of humanity and waged war on his own country alone. And despite lacking any method in his attacks, any co-ordination or tactics... he was crushing towns without struggle. Even with walls and time to prepare, repelling day after day of attacks, often by far superior numbers, was extremely difficult.

Trade had broken down, the roads impossible to travel. Crops had become weaker and sicklier, and a food shortage was on the brink of overtaking many surviving towns. Anyone trying to flee the borders often failed, for Alterac was blocking a great deal of the way out. One way led into open plains for miles, almost impossible to find anything to eat in without fine hunting skills. The other led to the Haunted Mines, a long trek through territory that was both suffering the same attacks as Ravencourt, and had recently been conquered. Refugees would find little welcome there- and even then would be hard-pressed to get into King's Crest.

Finally, those who had stayed and buckled down, unable to flee or preferring their chances with the defence, or in some very, very rare cases believing the rumor of Orphea returning to save them... had endured. This entire place was filled with ragged people that were begging for someone, anyone to save them.

"And now, here you are. We beg of you... please, end this nightmare, Orphea. Humanity cannot endure this forever."

"I will. I will never forgive the Raven Lord for what he has done..." Orphea confirmed. This town hall seemed to be as ragged as the town, even if it's stonework was unchanged from the day it was built. "Delia... What can the army do to help here? Remember- we can't afford to linger. If we leave this threat unchecked for too long, all other villages will suffer. And it may even reach King's Crest."

Delia looked horrified at the whole tale. "We'll do everything we possibly can. Wall repairs, additional fortifications, basic archery training- we'll till the fields if it might help. This... this is no situation humans should have to endure." Gone was her earlier hint of distrust and cold. "What's the fastest path to the tower? We need to put an end to this calamity before it gets any worse."

Nelson sat up. "I advise a small detour."

Delia blinked in utter confusion. "Detour... but sir, you just... you just spent so long telling us of the horrors unleashed on this land!"

Nelson nodded seriously. "And if you fail? Then hope is gone. I want to make sure all of you are going to win... so listen well to this. We recieved some messages from a few of the towns that were closer to the capital. Towns that should almost certainly have been wiped out. These towns came under the protection of an organisation calling themselves 'Overwatch'."

Hanzo's frown was undying, but he sounded at least moderately pleased. "It seems my warning must have reached them. It is good to know they can discover threats independently."

"They're led by an angel." Nelson added. "They wear a cloak and carry a shining golden sword, and use it to smite the wicked in defense of the good. If you were to enlist the help of Overwatch and the Angel, then you would surely have a better chance at overcoming the Raven Lord."

Delia nodded once. The room was oddly quiet, as Orphea tried to work out the timings and whether or not it was worth the risk of pulling away defenders from her surviving towns... But save for working out the details, there wasn't a word of objection to the plan laid out before them.


	19. Chapter 16: Dead Magic

The army moved once again. It's goal was the same, but now Orphea was armed with a concrete plan to follow. Go to the most central surviving town. Find whoever was leading Overwatch. Recruit Overwatch. March on the tower in one co-ordinated move.

It couldn't possibly work against anyone half as competent as her father. But it might just work against the Raven Lord.

The previous village had bid them farewell as soon as the army had woken, the spirit of the people there lifted from grit and despair to tense, uncertain hope. But then the Royal Army of King's Crest started working to repair the town walls, as a mayor who looked ten years younger went about spreading the news that had been brought.

Men had walked the streets, wanting to meet this foreign army from the country they'd so long regarded with distant worry.

Women and children had been spared food from the army- Orphea knew trying to stop the soldiers sharing their daily bread would have made the army implode, and even so she wasn't heartless. These people were starving.

She'd watched them regain a flicker of energy and life, the town starting up again like an old mechanism that was being given a run for the first time in a while. She'd bid them farewell fondly.

"...Do you think that that town will still be standing by the time we've won?" Orphea mused, as they travelled across overgrown plains of dying grass.

Delia blinked. "Wha- I..."

"The fiends from the Dark Nexus are everywhere. They're relentless and merciless. If too many strike at once... well, it's a foregone conclusion." Orphea said.

"That's horrible... those people... They only just regained hope. They shouldn't have to..." She shook her head, and looked straight forwards. "But that's why I'll fight all the harder. Fighting is what I'm good at, after all. We can bring this to a close in just a few days. They already lasted a month. Just a few more days."

"Let me ask you something." Orphea floated away a bit. "After this mess. Have you given it any thought? What will you do when the evil is sealed?"

"I'll marry and become Queen, of course. Then... I suppose I'll have to recruit a new council."

"But do you know how to do that? Ruling is half wisdom, half intelligence. You have to run logistics and constantly make important decisions. How much have you studied the matter- especially with a lot of potential mentors dead."

"...What's your point?"

"I want to help you avoid turning any victory we win here into ash. If King's Crest were to collapse, then the whole Nexus would feel it." Orphea seemed to be older than anyone as she said her next few words. "And a kingdom as shaken as yours isn't going to hold together under your rule, judging by what I've seen."

Delia winced.

"It's hard to hear. I know. But you have to face hard truths, or you'll only let them destroy the things you care about."

"Orphea... What exactly will you offer me? I... I know that I'm not experienced, but surely the kingdom won't..."

"Leadership- especially of a free nation- is derived from the consent and approval of the masses. The Raven Lord was cold and caluculating, and a terror to defy. But he understood that. I understand that, how to gain approval, keep it, and make decisions that will stop things falling apart. You... do you even have the heart to manipulate someone? Even the best-intentioned leaders have to sometimes do very, very unsavory things."

"...You don't know everything, Orphea. Stop acting like you do." Delia said, looking up. "I will show you that I can be every bit the leader my father was. I have the support of heroes. I can do this."

"...Suit yourself. I'm no dictator." Orphea relented. "But if things go badly, if you have even a shred of decency... you'll get someone to step in."

* * *

Camp for the night was calm, in a grassland relatively near to the town Orphea had gotten word of. Hagsnose. She inwardly wondered who in their right mind would pick that name. But it had stood for at least five hundred years, and that meant it was the second largest city in Ravencourt. Largest actually. The former largest city was now nothing but a painful memory.

'Regardless of what comes to pass however, you will still have to live in the place it stood. The Dark Nexus portal cannot be left unguarded.'

'...Hm.' Orphea sat on the grass outside her tent, gazing into the distance. Despite the perpetual clouding in the sky, moonlight seemed to filter through. It was a calming thing.

"Lady Orphea." There was a slight glimmer of grey light, and the sense of unease.

"Evening, Wyrm." Orphea looked back. "Has anything happened?"

She shook her head. "No... but while I was returning from a talk with Alexstrasza... I sensed something." She sat down next to Orphea. "Darkness. Around you."

"I wonder if I could do better at ruling King's Crest that Delia. She's well-intentioned, but still learning."

"And you're not learning?" The Wyrm asked.

"...A fair point. I still have great strides to take." Orphea put her hands in her lap, as a gentle breeze blew past.

"Besides. Hubris is the downfall of many a hero. The idea that just because you have succeeded, just because you legitimately ARE better than someone at something... makes you infallible... it forms the basis of the downfall of so many." Warned the Wyrm.

"I can respect that. I wonder if my father felt the same way, when he..." Orphea shut her eyes. "...conquered your home."

"Hm. Perhaps. But we shall never know. To most of the Haunted Mines, the Raven Lord is a shadowy figure who killed a beloved man and took our armies." The Wyrm leaned forwards, and looked at Orphea's face. "Anyway. I just wanted to let you know that Delia has been recieving formal guidance from Raynor and Alexstrasza on leading large operations."

"...Really?"

"Yes. I think Raynor might have overheard your conversation as you rode." The Wyrm smiled a bit. "Considering that he went and gathered up actual learning resources just to teach her. A fantastic man, that one."

"He... he does do the right thing, and his charisma is unquestionable. But I do worry that there are times he's too straightforwards, too idealistic."

"He knows grim reality as well as we all do. A great many deaths weigh on him, as fiercely supportive he is."

"..." Orphea flicked her hair back. "Well, he does seem wiser than most. For now let's get some rest. I can't be the person I have to if I waste perfectly good sleep."

"The person you have to?" There was some dry humor in that voice. "This is a team effort."

"I've been one of the leading factors in every event leading us here, and I plan for things to stay that way. If you want it done right, you should at least try to do it yourself. Goodnight." Orphea got up, and ducked into her tent.

The Wyrm stood up and left. "You can be incorrigible sometimes..."

* * *

Hagsnose seemed to be a towering bastion of darkness, great buildings of stone and wood painted black rising up into the sky, forming tight streets and back alleys. All manner of magic users and mad scientists lived about the town, mixing with common folk that lived in both awe and fear at what their neighbours would turn out next.

But as Orphea stepped through unguarded gates and past crumbled, if not outright destroyed walls. Rubble was sprinkled through the streets like a cascade, and flames had taken several buildings.

"No..." Delia whispered. "Damn it, no!"

"Don't be so quick to give up, Miss." Raynor was there immediately, looking over the wreckage. "Look there- Dark Nexus creatures! If they're still here, then maybe they're searching for anyone who avoided the attack?"

Alexstrasza stepped forwards. "We are not too late. I sense life within this place, a great deal of it."

Delia nodded and rose her voice to the point everyone could hear it. "Generals! Muster for battle. Our goal is to secure the area!"

There was a great shuffling as the formation adjusted itself slightly, while the varied Dark Nexus creatures all turned their attention to these new arrivals. Orphea dropped back, going for the Spectral Wyrm.

There were a few tense seconds as the floating collectives of rock and crystal drew close, sizing up the army that bristled with weapons. One would be forgiven for thinking they were intelligent, like some of the other creatures from the Dark Nexus.

But then that ragtag group of what amounted to cannon fodder charged.

Combat blossomed on the streets. The army easily crushed the first wave of hounds, but the sounds of battle were like signal flares to the rest of the forces in the city.

It wasn't possible to effectively use a large number of troops on these streets. Alleyways and rooftops made for ideal ambush points. Debris was a huge annoyance, keeping everyone but Orphea from finding good footing. The dragons couldn't get down into these nooks and crannies, flying above the whole area... but even so, turning this entire place into a magical inferno ran very contrary to Alexstrasza's will.

All of this culminated in it being a small elite team of the best few soldiers and the heroes at the front, while the majority of the army was simply there to provide a safe wall to retreat behnid as needed. Orphea got to see Delia in action for the first time as the princess spearheaded the battle atop her horse. Many of the truly elite fighters like heroes preferred to fight dismounted for the extra stability and ease of using techniques, but Delia was the opposite, her lance perfect for striking anything that strayed too close to her destrier. More than once she made the warhorse rear up and kick attacking entities, breaking rock with ease, and when the forces of chaos encroached she would buckle down, raise her shield, and endure, fighting back all the while.

It was a sight to behold. Although Orphea was fully aware that Delia's success as a frontline was reliant on her performance in the backline. And her emotions were all too volatile at the sight of yet another of her cities brought to ruin. Her attacks were familiar, and she found herself weaving them into a deadly performance, the emotion of a teenager made real.

They pressed forwards, a team of mismatched heroes united in cause. Raynor's gun blazed and his troops charged, Hanzo instructed great volleys of arrows to fall on the enemy, Alexstrazsa flooded the allied army with healing magic... They were unstoppable.

But then they reached the town square.

Orphea recognised it as a choke point- their road led into a much wider area, one crawling with enemies. Some of them even with ranged attacks, as evidenced by a few shards of crystal shooting past Delia and embedding themselves into the armour of soldiers. Breaking this choke meant sending someone in, right into a location where all of these attacks would be focused onto them. A place of incredible danger- and Delia wasn't someone who could be placed at that much risk...

"Delia, we need some way to break this choke!" Orphea dashed forwards, as some soldiers let Delia step back from the frontline for a moment.

"I'll charge it, and if everyone follows through we should be able to overwhelm them!"

"You can't go in there solo you-"

Delia charged. Orphea watched her make her horse leap completely over her frontline of troops, and she brought Gaederg down with enough force to shatter the rocks and crystals of the closest enemy in one blow. "ALL UNITS, CHARGE!"

Orphea had a lot of thoughts on her mind at that move, and most of them boiled down to 'You utter dimwit'.

True to prediction, even as her frontline moved forwards, Delia was absolutely pelted with attacks. She became the focal point for every enemy in the square, an easy target far out of position. Her armour and shield dented and dinged, and even started to buckle, to say nothing of the horse in chainmail. Her troops rushed to join her, but they were moving and not attacking, giving the enemy even more time to just wail on them.

Orphea did what she could to commit to the strategy, hoping some attacks might at least kill enough enemies to let them survive, but Delia was now in the way of all her most destructive spells, and lashing out or chomping a few of them simply wouldn't cut it.

The five seconds of fighting seemed to drag out forever as Orphea was keenly aware of everything going sideways. Some men died, pierced by crystal or bitten or bludgeoned. Some halted before reaching Delia, shields up and rapidly wearing.

Delia blocked a lot of incoming blows with her weapons, until one of the hounds grabbed the shaft of her spear, and didn't let go. She tried to throw it off and then some vaguely humanoid assembly of crystals struck her shield, toppling her from her saddle.

"Spit." Orphea jumped forwards. Delia was the lynchpin of all her plans. The figurehead this army rallied behind. Even if she could be martyred, morale would nosedive. Orphea flung out two spells midair, and an almost lightning-like blast of eldritch power streaked from her hand to the closest target, burning away its' crystal core. She brandished lashes and let loose as many spells as she could with a prone ally behind her, but magic had limits. Her fighting style never involved blocking. And in a few seconds, her concern went from Delia's life to her own, her magical defences weakening.

A few brave souls made it to them, reinforcing the position. Orphea overflowed with chaos magic, desperately trying to keep herself from dying for a stupid mistake. It all seemed in vain. But as the soldiers pressed in as hard as they could and Orphea adamantly refused to give up and die, they bought themselves time. Enough time.

A few glowing pulses of energy strafed the ground in front of her, hitting some of the attackers in the backs and stumbling them. Soldiers pressed past Orphea as she slumped to the floor, aware of a few shards stuck into her body and rips in her clothing. Strength abandoned her, and she looked up.

A cloaked figure seemed to fly along one of the walls leading into the square, trailing light. And they reached into that cloak, throwing it open and drawing out a shining golden sword.

They leapt down, and with an arcing flash, the sword passed through three enemies. The mystery man was agile, a master at controlling distance, as he struck without leaving any chance to counterattack, sometimes producing blasts of light to cut a path through the swarming darkness. His rallying cry of "Justice is here!" was simple, but in combination with his much-needed entrance and turning of the battle, it sent the troops into a frenzy.

And he did a short hop, spun once in the air before landing in front of Orphea, and plunged the sword into the floor. "Sanctification!"

A circle of light spread around their feet in an instant, golden energy enveloping Orphea, Delia, and all the nearby troops. Enemy attacks bounced off completely, repelled by the light.

Orphea could only see a hint of dark skin as the saviour took the sword back out, and went to work clearing out the rest of the enemy. She forced herself to her feet, realising several patches of blood had blossomed on her clothing, and mustered the energy and anger to crush the nearest few enemies, as the holy protection started to wane. She needn't have bothered, as the main battle was already over, Delia's attack tactic having gone from suicidal to successful by some higher intervention.

She just pressed a hand over the worst of her wounds, and raised her voice. "Soldiers! Block the other entrances to the square, stop any enemies approaching! Alexstrasza, we need your healing!"

Thankfully, said soldiers obeyed.

"Alexstrasza is too far back!" Yelled one of the ones who didn't rush to an entrance.

The claoked man walked up, pulling back the hood to show a kind face. "Don't worry, I've got this." He stepped over, and raised a hand up high. "Time to heal."

Orphea felt a wave of vitality surge through her as a sound reminiscient of music filled the area. She was even aware of some of the crystals embedded in her falling out, leaving behind mostly okay skin. So her thoughts turned back to the woman on the floor. She knelt and picked up the princess' torso with some difficulty, armour weighing it down. "Delia? Are you alive?"

"I can still... fight..."

Orphea dropped her. "Great. Get up then."

"...Ugh." Delia shut her eyes, and fumbled for a bit of non-rubble floor to prop herself up. "The Angel... this is the person the rumors told us to look for?"

"Angel?" Orphea looked behind her. The man had brought his hand down, and slipped the sword back inside the thin cloak. That was definitely a human. An awesome, life-saving human, but a human nonetheless. "...He's clearly not a celestial. Although that sword..."

"I'm probably the Angel you're looking for." He walked over, and offered Delia a hand. "I'm here with Overwatch. We've been running a search and rescue for the people who didn't evacuate here."

"Oh? Then I'm Orphea, and this is Delia. We command this army." Orphea explained hurriedly. "If you know where the survivors are, please tell us."

"Of course. This way, ma'ams." He turned, and went for one of the barricades.

* * *

In a few hours, the city was free from Dark Nexus beings. No other point had presented even a fraction of the challenge of the square, and with the help of the Angel, they could throw everything from divine power to dragonfire to darkness at their enemies.

After a sweep came back clear for the third time, Orphea let herself sit down. "Something finally went right."

"The city ought to be safe now." The Angel sat on a piece of rubble across from Orphea. "I'll let Overwatch know that that army we heard rumors of has arrived."

Delia sat on the floor beneath her horse, as Alexstrasza casually brushed its' coat with her hands, sweeping away wounds with absolutely no effort. Delia dropped her shield, took off her helmet, and panted. "That was... tough."

"The worst is yet to come." Orphea said plainly. "But hopefully we can all end this quickly from here. Angel... can I call you that?"

"It's my callsign, so yes."

"Angel, we were told you and Overwatch are all legendary fighters." Orphea leaned in. Now, how to present an argument..? ethos, logos, pathos... "We're planning to march on the tower and defeat the Raven Lord. Then we can seal the Dark Nexus again and bring this madness to an end. If you'll join us with Overwatch, you can protect these people by stopping the threat at its' root."

"Don't worry, we were already planning to join. It's clear that whoever is causing all this has to be stopped, before they hurt any more innocent people."

"Then I thank you for taking care of my citizens... and giving them the benefit of the doubt, if you come from most worlds with dark magic." Orphea replied earnestly. "I should introduce myself in proper here- I am Orphea, heir apparent to this realm and inheritor of its' singularity. If it wasn't for my father going mad, none of us would be in this situation... so I've been helping bring about his downfall. And Delia, if you want to..?"

"I'm Delia, princess of King's Crest. Lost my family when the Raven Lord attacked. Here to avenge them." She half-mumbled, getting sweat-soaked hair out of her face. "We were going to intervene anyway to stop this reaching us, but... well, now we're all here for revenge. We already have a few powerful figures backing us, but another few might make all the difference when we're against a tyrant like that."

"Got it. You two look exhausted, so let's go and meet up with the rest of Overwatch." Said the Angel. "They're just across the city, in the safe zone we cleared out. You can plan your next move there, and rest up."

"Great." And it was. Things were truly looking up.

Orphea had never been more suspicious.

* * *

Orphea sat back and watched as Ereshkistrasza and one of the Overwatch agents by name of Genji got into a lengthy spiritual discussion about life and death. They were new friends, no doubt. Much like Raynor and literally everyone he talked to.

She watched as Hanzo introduced Alexstrasza to everybody, and the supposed dragon recieved more than a few gestures of respect. It made sense, she did command a certain authority despite the fact she was only following the leadership of the army.

Orphea just cleared her mind and let her natural reserves of mana start to refill. Prolonged combat could be a real drain. And no matter who you were or how much you understood the need to connect with your peers, sometimes you just wanted some time alone in peace. Sitting on a high windowsill of a relatively intact building, she gazed out into the distance. Towards her old home.

Her father was there. The singular cause of all this tragedy, the ruins she sat in to the royal graves on the other side of Alterac.

Or...

There was a presence. A presence just over the walls, in the woods outside the city. Chaos, darkness, and simple madness. From here, Orphea could see a small stone ruin that might have been a ritual site, or even just a simple well. And without any doubt, that was where she felt that presence.

Nobody else would think anything of that presence. They would assume it was just another piece of this land. In a way, they'd be right.

That presence was the one that had shaped Ravencourt, after all.

Orphea looked out over the broken city, the paltry handful of survivors, and the foreign army. She had a matter to deal with tonight. And one hour to plan.


	20. Chapter 17: Lurking Terror

"Wyrm."

The Spectral Wyrm turned around, to see her teenage leader standing in her usual imposing manner. Clothes mended, wounds fixed, and even restored to full magical power. Still, she often didn't speak to someone without a point. "Orphea? What can I do for you?"

Orphea looked around. Nobody was within earshot, the majority of the soldiers had settled down to sleep, Delia and most of Overwatch were busy planning the march to the Tower tomorrow, and those few that milled around or guarded the camp didn't quite enjoy the shadows the way that she and the Wyrm did. "I'm going to do something highly unadvisable, so in my adoptive mother's words, don't try and advise me. But I want you to know what I'm doing, in case I need to be bailed out."

The Wyrm raised an eyebrow. "This already sounds like a disaster in the making."

"...I sense my father in the ruins outside town." Said Orphea. "Approaching him with the army is sure to make him flee, just out of sense of self-preservation, but if I go alone I might be able to bring him down. He has more raw power than me, but his mind is gone. I can exploit that, and if I can kill him, it will prevent another battle."

The Wyrm blinked once. "That-"

"I've weighed the risks carefully. I've plotted escape routes and thoroughly read the area for any hint of reinforcements. He's there alone. All I want is for you to defuse the alarm if anyone realises I'm gone.. or raise it if he sets his sights on the army."

"But the danger-"

Orphea stopped her dead again, words quiet yet incredibly forceful. "He could be preparing a long-range spell. Mass polymorph, mass hysteria, even a simple attack spell would hit all of us incredibly hard right now. We cannot leave him unchecked. Do you understand your orders?"

"..." The Wyrm nodded her head uncertainly. "Keep things under control here."

"Good. I'll be back in a moment." Orphea got up and walked out of the camp like she'd been told to, and not one of the guards batted an eyelid.

* * *

The night was restless. Every shadow seemed to jump, and the air seemed to be alive with crawling unease, be it birds of the night or leaves.

Orphea walked alone. Both a personal preference for when she had to fight, and something she knew she couldn't do often for safety's sake. Was she walking into a trap? Did many-fanged monsters surround her as she made her way to the old shrine? Was a rifle making the last adjustments for a headshot? ...She knew she'd read the area as thoroughly as she could, and yet the thoughts played against her mind.

And like a wave, it reminded her that she was more powerful than any of that._ She_ was the threat walking through these woods, and any claw, blade or bullet was going to be as harmful as a throw pillow. It would take something serious to stop her... something like her father.

'Be careful, Orphea. Both in your approach here, and your choice of words to the army. This could all too easily turn sour...'

'I know...' For the first time in a while, that simple phrase was thought with grave undertones.

She went along the path, and looked up at the sky. A rare occurrence was taking place above- the moon was showing itself through the clouds. Something regarded as most auspicious, if only for its' rarity. She knew it was superstition... but at the same time, any hope was drawn into her and locked up tight, a valuable thing she needed. The moonlight came down nonetheless, and a pale light bathed the woods.

And then she came to the shrine. It was there at the end of a little branch from the main path, trees curving around it. Old stonework stood in arches and alcoves, and in the sunlight it would have been a beautiful spot of ancient mystery and soft nature to sit and enjoy life... But Ravencourt had no sunlight. This ruin was steeped in foreboding power, the arches seemed to be gateways into nightmares and the plants reluctant to grow over this place and accept it back into the soil.

There was nothing to do but approach with a confident air.

The moment she set foot past the entrance, magic swirled around her, a breeze carrying leaves and feathers that was infused with power... Fear sparked in Orphea's heart, but it was drowned out in its' entirety by anger, resolve, longing and Dead Magic. And locked behind a teenage girl's calm facade.

The breeze of debris whisked past her and into the furthest alcove, parting to reveal a raven for a split second, as the feathers and magic consolidated into a man.

He walked forwards, and there was an almost tangible dread chill. Some would have blamed it on his corruption, the blood-red glow from his bad eye and the gemstone on his chest. Orphea knew it was subtle magic, and years of training to intimidate as he needed to.

"You have finally returned home." The Raven Lord looked down at Orphea from a small raised platform before the alcove, a judge.

"Home?" Said his daughter. "You destroyed my home..." She looked up and down the man as he acted like nothing had happened, like everything was so beneath him. "...Slaughtered innocents! Left peaceful realms in ruin!" And unbidden, feelings of hurt, betrayal, and dry anger seeped into her tone. "You broke your promise."

And yet it seemed to fall on deaf ears. "I will not be questioned. Return to the tower, at once!"

That was the moment Orphea felt her emotions start to get away from her. All signalled by a little tightening of her fist at her side. Did it mean nothing to him? The family's work? Ravencourt? The Nexus?

She saw the thin guise of humanity he had fall away. As impassively as if he were picking a book from a library shelf he raised a hand. "Fine."

'Watch Out!'

The blast of chaos energy was almost instant as Orphea flinched. But it cleared with a solid coil of purple matter around her front, rapidly disappearing back into the box as she processed what had happened. No hesitation. No remorse. Not for her. Not for anything.

"...How could you..?" She whispered.

Emotions surged and roiled. And Orphea went from a scared child to someone standing against the Dark Nexus. Lessons flowed through her mind, tactics started to form... she made a solid platform of power beneath herself, floating up to stand on equal footing to her enemy.

"Dead magic? I am beyond that power." He wasn't impressed, if his mildly condescending and very overconfident tone was any indication.

"We'll see!"

It all came to a head. All that Orphea knew was her power was linked to her emotions as a huge snaking mass of magic soared from the coffin on her back and lunged at the Raven Lord. Fangs and nubs of bone sprouted from the end of the weapon as it opened into a huge crushing maw, but it snapped shut on empty air as the target suddenly started moving like the wind, dashing past Orphea with a hint of magic and feathers and striking out with the staff he carried, chaos arcing off it like lightning. Orphea's own Dead Magic was chaos magic, but it was the difference between night and day as flashes of purple and red shot about the ruins.

But Orphea, emotional as she was, was thinking. Her strikes weren't always intended to hit, sometimes delayed by a fraction of a second, redirected to very specific angles. Shepherding her prey into one specific spot...

She only needed a split second to raise her arm up high, and the whip she formed was small but deadly concentrated with magic. It rushed forwards, striking the gem on the Raven Lord's chest with a crackle, and Orphea noted with some satisfaction that her father's mouth tightened in pain.

But he jumped into the air, and energy crackled around him, a red aura of alarming power. "ENOUGH!" And with a blast that aura burst, the explosion batting Orphea away like a ragdoll.

Osiris caught her from within the coffin, magically grabbing her from free-flight with his power and dropping her to the floor amidst the destruction as she sunk into rage. "YOU DESTROYED EVERYTHING OUR FAMILY EVER WORKED FOR! YOU DROVE MOTHER AWAY! YOU TRIED TO KILL ME!"

A direct charge would have been completely pointless for most. Doubly so for a mage. But Orphea sprinted forwards and leapt, her body moving with catlike agility as she sprung from platforms of her own power in the air, dodging the Raven Lord's bolts of energy before he'd even cast them. She ascended the air, and this time she stood higher than her father as she made magic surge up in an attack, manifesting as a flurry of bolts that would once have been cantrips, but now blazed with eldritch energy.

Oberon batted away many and swung his staff around, calling forth power from the Singularity. Orphea could feel it, and she saw a curtainlike mass of darkness sweep around from behind the Raven Lord, balling up and homing in on her. Instantly, she knew it would be enough to turn her to dust on the winds. This power was...

No. This power couldn't be dodged. And while it would be instantly lethal if it touched her... Hell hath no fury like a heiress scorned. The strategy was split-second. She enveloped herself in her own power, flying straight for the Raven Lord. She was engulfed in his attack, and instantly it started to burn away her magic, but in those precious moments she'd closed in, turning the attack against the Raven Lord. Nobody could survive a direct hit, but deflecting it? That was the key, as it exploded with force insurmountible, enough to tear at reality itself.

She found herself floating in the eye of the storm, chaos all around them as they hovered, eyeing each other like wounded beasts. "...Tell me why you did this!"

For just a moment, his expression softened. His words stopped sounding like dramatic bluster. "There must be order, my daughter. Without it, everything will be lost."

But they fell on deaf ears. "An excuse? Then I will fight!"

Orphea prepared another attack, a magical quickdraw. But as it left her hand, the bolt streaked into the empty night, only a few feathers where Oberon had been.

The magical storm created collapsed with an explosion, and for a few moments Orphea couldn't see a thing. When the energy and smoke cleared, the ruins were all rubble save for one statue.

She flew up into the air, watching a raven fly away. It was already out of her range, moving towards the tower.

"I will never stop fighting you. For my family. For the realm. For the Nexus."

She hung in the air as her father flew. Part of her wanted to chase, to track him down and make good on that promise-threat she'd said in her rage. But the rage burned out in the presence of her wounds and magical exhaustion, and she found herself drifting to the floor, finally touching down as light as a feather.

Without another word, she started walking back towards her army.

* * *

"Orphea, what in the burning hells?"

Delia was amazingly quiet for two minutes as Orphea dragged herself in after the display outside town. Likely because of shock. Raynor had promptly taken her into the infirmary, where Deckard had already prepared bandages, potions and some things Orphea didn't even recognise. Delia had sat there looking at her patiently for at least a minute.

"I sensed my father outside the walls. I thought he was preparing an attack... and I couldn't waste any time, in case he unleashed it." She said calmly on the makeshift bed.

"I thought you would be killed. And- gods above, you can't just run about and do as you please in an army! Anyone formally under either our commands would be in for harsh treatment for a stunt like that!" Delia went from hurt to angry quickly, although it didn't phase the expert.

"True, but we'd also praise the valor and skill of someone who managed to make that combat- and before you call me reckless, I thoroughly considered my options and even prepared a backup plan. I could have been outmatched and I'd have been able to get away, safe in the knowledge anything he plotted was disrupted." She laid back. "And before you make further argument- I am not officially under your jurisdiction, so you can't impose any disciplinary action on me."

Delia stepped forwards and put her hands on the end of the bed. "I'm trying to tell you that you shouldn't risk getting yourself killed!"

"I know that I shouldn't. But sometimes we have to take risks."

"We have people to support us during them!" Delia tried to move closer, and the end of a walking stick bumped into her chest.

Deckard held it in his free hand, sitting next to Orphea as he poured something onto a bandage. "No further, Princess Delia. She is not seriously injured, but it would not do to risk making things worse."

Delia opened and closed her mouth, huffed, and marched out of the room.

Orphea sighed. "...Is it narcissistic to say that I think she did that because she cares about me?" She looked at Deckard.

"I cannot say. I am a scholar above all, but the heart is not a mystery I can claim to have unravelled." The old man finished preparing the bandage, and removed one of the only bloody bandages on Orphea's person, replacing it. "Ah, but I do share in some of her concerns. You did bring us all here. And while I do not know you well, I understand you have many friends. We would all be devastated if you had died."

"Thanks."

"So please, if something like that happens again, just take one of us with you. Me, or one of those good men or women... We do not mind helping at short notice." Deckard said, as he finished by taking out a little box of tiny band-aids and pressing it into Orphea's hand. "Here. In case you've any small cuts my potion didn't take care of."

Orphea looked at the box. The sticky plasters were apparently printed with a cartoon animal pattern. How cute. Although she questioned the relevancy when Ereshkistrasza could snap her fingers and give her a magical revitalisation. "How kind."

"Think nothing of it, young Orphea. Would you like to hear a story, before you rest the night? I know a great many tales from Sanctuary..."

"Okay." Orphea shut her eyes. Even though she'd been fighting an hour ago, she felt so sleepy as Deckard started to go on and on about a falling star...

* * *

Her eyes opened sometime in the morning. Her clothes had mended themselves. The bandaging was gone. Someone had left a cup of tea next to the makeshift army bed.

She felt like she'd awoken from a deep, deep sleep. Refreshed, but still coming back to consciousness.

"Ah, you're finally awake."

Orphea saw Angel sitting where Deckard had been. She stretched and yawned, before sitting up herself. Deckard's healing was flawless. She felt better than she had in weeks.

"We held a bit of a strategy meeting while you were unconscious. The Spectral Worm- uh, Wyrm, advised we push ahead. Said something about you having managed to wound the Raven Lord, and that we had a window of opportunity. Since she's your second in command, we counted her opinion as yours. We move out in half an hour, to march for the Tower."

Orphea nodded. "She made the correct decision."

There was the sound of someone in metal armour stepping forwards. "...So did you." Delia said softly, pushing the door of the tent open. "I asked around, when I was trying to work out what to do about you going solo. Your lieutenant vouched for your intentions and actions, so did Deckard and Raynor. And... I... I admit, I trust you."

"You don't need to apologise." Orphea remained perfectly cordial outside, although inside she remembered that this was why she preferred to be solely responsible for her actions. A luxury by all means.

"...I suppose. But still. It can't have been easy fighting your father. I still regret having had to fight mine." Delia leaned on her lance.

"He's not my father. Not anymore. I'm disowning him." Orphea huffed. "I was always going to kill him for everything he's done- and for the sake of the Nexus, but after last night... whatever's left in that human body isn't worthy of being considered a father."

"...I can't say I know that feeling. But I suppose I should be thankful. Come on, Orphea. To battle- and together, this time."

"Heh. Always good to know someone cares." Orphea got up from the bed. "Or a lot of someones, I guess. Now, what do I need to know about the strategy meeting last night..?"


	21. Chapter 18: Monster Within

The march to the tower was quiet at first. The forest where Orphea had had her battle with the Raven Lord was nothing without his presence. The plains of grass were bordering on blighted, but weak, sickly grass couldn't hide anything worse than a snake. Probably.

Orphea floated down gently, and plucked a few strands. She had concerns. But at the very least, she had one of the most qualified individuals in multiple universes to consult about her lawn. Or rather, the general state of the land. Famines were decidedly not fun. As she made her way over, it occurred to her just how lucky she'd gotten to have this option. Someone of this much power and authority would normally never be available to consult on a whim- even less so about a matter that could probably be solved with a skilled gardener's opinion.

"Excuse me, Alexstrasza? I need to ask a question."

The Dragonqueen rode alongside the Spectral Wrym, chatting easily. "And they think I'm not wearing enough, ha ha! They should have seen what happened the first time I had to take human form!" She was absorbed in a hearty conversation to the extent she didn't seem to notice Orphea until she saw The Wyrm looking over her shoulder. "Ah, hello. Do you desire something, mortal?"

Orphea floated along next to Alexstrasza, and held out the grass. "I want to know about the land here. It's dying because of the Dark Nexus' influence, right?"

"Correct. And you want to know if the land will heal of it's own accord?" Alexstrasza's smile flashed something a little too generous for a moment. "Or if I can restore it instantly?"

"I'm not so foolish as to ask for things like that for free." Orphea said easily. "But of course, I might still obtain it without cost. Such is negotiation."

Alexstrasza hummed, and still smiled as she took a single blade of grass from Orphea's hand. A hint of displeasure crossed onto her face. "Slightly too acidic... Not enough light, but the kind of grass doesn't need much... Definite exposure to necrotic magic... And of course, it cannot defend itself from chaos magic's damaging properties the way you or I would. Or even a nonmagical creature."

"But what will I need to do to avoid a hunger crisis?" Orphea asked.

"Sealing the Dark Nexus will prevent further damage. Restoration to normal would take about two years without magic."

"...And if I ask the Spectral Wyrm to fix it? ...Unless there's a catch." Orphea looked at the grass. "There has to be a catch, right? If you could bolster an environment it would make it easy to sustain a larger amount of dragons without serious depletion of game."

"How intelligent! You are correct- I can wave away these problems with as little as a few breaths. But the process that you might call 'terraforming' can cause magical destabilisation on a catastrophic scale. You would be better solving this problem by natural means." Explained Alexstrasza, letting the blade of grass loose into the breeze. "The likely consequence here would be unstable flows of magic, susceptible to sudden surges."

"Hm. I have heard of people that fight using wild magic surges... I wonder if we could harness that unstable flow..? Maybe use it to fuel large-scale spells?" Mused Orphea. "...Maybe in a time of peace. For now, I think the people just need to have few months where they're not on the recieving end of my familty drama."

Alexstrasza had a moderately shocked face at that first part, to Orphea's amusement.

"Such is human ambition." Commented the Wyrm. "Care to join us for a chat?"

"I'd call it an honour, but I don't think either of you are looking for formalities based on what I heard before. Trading stories?" Orphea took a casual posture. "Always nice to know what kind of mistakes we all make."

"Oh, we were talking about some very... er..." Alexstrasza looked at her relative briefly, with seven different kinds of hesitation, and a touch of a blush on her face. "Dragon-specific... things. Ha."

The Wyrm smiled knowingly at Orphea for a second. "Orphea... you can just call me Eresh for a few minutes. You won't believe what my grandmother's been up to in the last few millenia."

Embarrassed awkward dragonqueen. Orphea wondered if Delia would have an aneurism if she knew she was about to tease the ruler of the creatures she prayed to at night. Either way, it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance, so why miss it?

* * *

"Heads up folks!" Raynor called, his voice carrying loud and clear. "I'm seeing movement around the tower."

"Get a closer view." Delia instructed, before drawing out a thin horn a giving it a long blast. The signal to stop, and one a lot kinder to the throat than yelling it loud enough to carry across an entire marching army.

Raynor jumped off and brought a hand to the side of his visor. "Zooming in... Alright, THAT ain't good. Sure wish Matt was here, could really use the Hyperion about now."

"What do you see?"

"Right, sorry. Forgot you don't have displays." Raynor brought his hand down. "I'm seeing a high number of those Dark Nexus things around the tower. Looking like about a hundred fliers circling, and a bunch of others on the ground... damn hard to tell how many without an aerial view, but I'd guess about... two-thirds the size of ours?"

Delia looked out into the distance, in contemplation for a few moments. "Orphea."

"Here."

"We need a battle plan. Raynor, gather the rest of my commanders and have the table brought from the convoy. It's time to finish this. For the sake of all realms." Delia got off her horse, a hard frown on her face.

Orphea flicked a hand, concentrating very hard on the air in front of her. Shaping energy to her will wasn't the easiest feat... But a rough map of the Tower and surrounding lands manifested. "Alright. The family tower was designed so that you simply couldn't attack it on foot from anywhere but the front. Scaling the cliffs at the back would be impossible without a pair of wings."

"And since our enemy has air superiority..."

"Frontal assault IS the most attractive option. Just as Oersted intended. However, Oersted and everyone in his family line- me and my oathbreaking father included- are exceptionally powerful mages and can throw all manner of spells at you from complete safety. Extensive channel times might make things like meteor storms impractical normally, but I think I could probably do it in twenty minutes with the right environment."

"So..?"

"So. We need to strike hard and fast, from multiple angles, and ALL of our armies that we care about need someone capable of casting a counterspell for something cast by a singularity."

"That's... demanding..."

"Thanks, we tried." Orphea deadpanned. "I can stop anything my Father casts. Even with his singularity, the madness has weakened him enough for me to outsmart his magic. Alexstrasza and The Spectral Wyrm together might just be able to protect a small number of dragons. Do we have any particularly powerful users of holy magic?"

"As they say, 'sup."

Orphea and Delia looked to the side to see Angel standing there, with a good-natured smile and a hand on El'druin. Orphea nodded. "Thanks. A three-point assault should mean at least one route finds purchase. Even if the husk of a mind my father has reacts to one of us, he won't be able to co-ordinate against three."

"Hmm... but from a common sense point of view, splitting an army is a risky move... especially against a defence." Delia noted. She leaned on her lance. "And all of us have limited magical power. Your father doesn't. We still have a strict time limit before he manages to exhaust one of our defenders..."

"Right. The good news is that your army is full of cavalry. And if they can handle Alterac, they can handle the front approach to the Tower." Orphea pointed out some parts of her little magic map. "In an ideal world, the enemy is uncoordinated and unsuited to the terrain. We have to plan for them being stationed to cut us off AND to flank us."

"I can lead a cavalry charge down this route with ease. If we take the remaining dragons and use them as a reserve force, then we can handle this. Orphea, as my most trusted advisor, I want you to work with Hartmut and Raynor to lead three quarters of our infantry down the other path. Use Hanzo's archers too. The leftover quarter and the alliance elites are going to give me a safe point to fall back to if I have to switch to hit and run tactics."

"And the medics split evenly?"

"Have them positioned safely above all. We're definitely going to have injured from this battle, so Deckard ought to set up a field hospital." Delia reasoned. "...That makes a reasonable general outline."

"Now to find the flaws." Orphea said seriously. "And of course, run the plans by our commanders."

* * *

It was just getting to sunset as the army moved into position to begin the assault. Orphea had given dire warnings about getting too close to the tower in advance, and still fretted that her father might have some concealed way of projecting a spell futher than it would ever normally be able to go.

Deckard hobbled up next to her. Even as his old body shook, he had more authority than most people who were on horses. "I will set up an infirmary here..." He surveyed the lands, almost tangibly picking out the perfect spot. But with his observations, he saw the lands closer to the tower. "Young hero. I am sorry about your hometown. If you ever wish to speak of the issue, then I am more than willing to hear it."

"...I knew there was no way to save it." Orphea whispered. "But now that I look at what's left, I wish... no, never mind."

Rubble. Barely a hint of a town. To identify that there was once a human settlement here would have required seeing this kind of carnage dozens of times before. Orphea herself could barely tell, the only hints of a once-thriving settlement were the occasional blackened space where something had burned, or rock that betrayed hints of being shaped by human hands once. She wondered where the bodies were. If she could dig through these rocks, would she find remains of the people that had paid the price for her father's actions? The people she had abandoned to death?

And once more, she felt herself on the verge of falling into emotional rage.

An old hand was placed on her shoulder. "There, there..."

"Don't." Orphea said. "I... I deserve to feel this way. This is something I could have tried to avoid. Should have."

"I cannot blame you. You clearly made a difficult choice, and so long as you put great thought into it- then only a fool would blame you." Deckard took his hand back, and let it rest on his bag.

"Then I'll at least make sure that they are avenged. And that this kind of... slaughter... is NOT repeated. The Nexus is a place of constant chaos and conflict, where warriors fight and die with the glory they seek and return to do so again; not a place where good people are killed in droves without a hope, and not a place where evil is allowed to act without opposition or consequences." Orphea clenched her hand, and a flicker of power danced around it. "To battle."

* * *

The sky was starting to fall dark. Delia had rightfully been concerned about facing the Raven Lord in the darkness, where her troops might have impaired vision and the creatures of the Dark Nexus would likely be fine, but Orphea knew it didn't matter.

Nightfall wasn't actually due for another two hours. This was magically induced. And Orphea was perfectly happy to give her father this one, since it was hopefully a drain on the amount of magic he could sustain at once. Less chance of having to counterspell something apocalyptic.

Hartmut held a sword and shield, a thick metal helmet signifying his rank. Raynor stood taller than him with an awe-inspiring presence, looking back at the troops. Orphea completed the trifecta of commanders that stood just a little back from the frontline.

Hartmut stepped up, holding his gear tightly. "Everyone, you all heard the briefing. This is the battle to breach the Tower. Winning here is as good as ending things. So come on with me, one more push for the Nexus. Just one more."

Raynor rolled his visor back, and his voice carried out easily. "Soldiers! Look around. Heroes are standing with you. Dragons are standing with you. Ravencourt is standing with you! Today we're gonna set things right, so let's get out there and show these bastards the door!" He cheered.

There was a wave of morale through the nearby troops, and Orphea was content to stand in place and be prepared.

The tension in the soldiers was like an energy, confident yet apprehensive. A buzz rising through the crowd.

"Now remember. Just listen to your orders, and we'll get through this alive." Hartmut called, as he watched the skies. "The attack begins on the princess' signal!"

Orphea felt her heart thrashing inside her, embroiled in too many feelings good and bad to even consider how she was feeling. It was like a cold fire burned through her chest. This was the critical moment.

A streak of pale blue light went flying into the air, and then burst into flames.

Hartmut held his sword forwards. "SOLDIERS OF KING'S CREST! QUICK MARCH!"

'Let's hope the alliance and the dragons can hold the other assaults...' Osiris noted, as Orphea floated at a similar distance from the front to the other three commanders.

The army moved like a river of men and women, rising up the hill and towards the Tower. A few stray Dark Nexus creatures saw them coming and fled, and a few more saw them coming and charged in solo, only to be shot or stabbed before doing anything. They made it through the low ground, and onto what Orphea knew was the bumpy hill designed to act as defensive terrain for the Tower.

Lights in the distance. Hues of green, red, purple, yellow, blue... they were beautiful at this distance, but everyone had fought these creatures before. Those crystal cores were filled with magic that compelled them to attack- everyone had seen or felt it. Orphea saw the lights shift, moving away from her approaching army and towards the other side. The side where Delia was attacking.

A heavy air fell over the area. A tremendous magical spell was unleashed. From here, Orphea could feel it as it fell upon Delia's army.

A flash of gold light illuminated the night, and Orphea knew that the Angel had staved it off... this time. And now they were nearly upon the defences.

The battle began in earnest, as the frontline broke through the treeline and charged the mass of constructs the Raven Lord had summoned. Rock and crystal turned with chaotic precision and charged right towards the army without a hint of fear.

The charging combatants clashed, some soldiers finding their confidence misplaced and ending up skwered or bludgeoned by the rock beings. But as Orphea leapt in and manifested her power to rip apart the core of this force, men and women all around her moved in with all kinds of weapons and spells, organised and determined. It was a slow, methodical scouring of the challenging army.

Everything blended into carnage. Orphea herself could barely tell what was happening, running on adrenaline and her pent-up frustrations over every decision her father had made in the last six months. All she knew was a blur of her magic crushing rocks into dust, mixed with a background roar of dragons.

A magical presence focused on her area and she didn't even realise she was couterspelling it until she'd already jumped into the air and exploded with snaking tendrils of horrific power, weaving into the very fabric of reality to devour the blossoming spell coming from the tower. And without even missing a beat she dropped to the floor and went right back to leading the charge.

* * *

Her lower left ribs had broken, a lucky hit three minutes ago. Hartmut had fallen back with his sword broken clean in two. Her body felt like it was eroding from the inside out, her blood running dry inside pale veins. Soldiers were dead or watching in a mixture of fear and awe. Pain crept through her every tendon, trying to drag her to the floor.

Orphea kept fighting. If an attack didn't bounce off her, she didn't show any indication it hadn't. Eyes red with magic and vicious magical strikes were all she was as she marched up to the tower.

Raynor was standing just a little back, handling troop movements. The battle was over already. Oh, sure the Raven Lord still had some armies. But the forces of King's Crest alone had the outnumbered and completely surrounded. The dragons and alliance were just overkill.

And now they were all bearing down on the last pocket of resistance. Against humans this would have been tough, a perfect location to fortify- one that would simply require attack via artillery. But Orphea marched right in... the girl was going to get herself killed, as they all turned and tried to stab or crush her. But she was the one to put them in their graves, even as blood streamed from so many places on her body that Raynor himself was amazed she could still be alive.

He'd tried to call her off for her own good more than once.

The army moved in to back her up, and the last bastion of resistance was crushed. He could see dragons starting to close in on the spires of the tower, ensuring no more fliers were deployed. Delia's cavalry cantered up beside this force, Varian and the alliance hot on their heels.

For a moment, Orphea stood there looking at the tower, seething with rage.

And then there was a pulse like a single giant heartbeat, and the world seemed to spin for just a second. All her saw was Orphea lying face down on the floor underneath a coffin that seemed to smoke with residual magic energy, and a huge barrier of ghostly purple energy around the Tower.

"MEDIIIIIC! GET ME ALEXSTRASZA, NOW!"

* * *

Everything hurt. Everything was one single focal point of pain, and nothing else existed. Orphea couldn't form a thought, she couldn't hear or see or feel, everything was simply pain so intense that she wanted nothing but instant death. She wanted to shriek and scream, and she simply couldn't. Her mouth wouldn't move.

That was the next two hours of her life.

Sometimes the pain lessened enough for her to think of anything apart from needing to scream. She wished it didn't. Comprehanding the pain was even worse. It was like an intense stinging migraine in every individual cell of her body.

"Her eyes are open!"

"K..." She choked once and spat out nothing but magically void air. "Kill... me..."

Then there was a wave of magic, and she felt things lift. Everything still hurt, but at least now she could actually move her muscles... at the expense of flaring agony. Even opening her eyelids, to see herself on a makeshift bed.

Delia was standing in front of her.

"Oh gods... kill me before Delia gets to do it first." Whispered Orphea.

Delia went a shade of furious red as she searched for words, before diving onto her knees in front of Orphea and sobbing. "You.. stupid... self-sacrificing... piece of..!" The princess of the realm broke down crying. "Alexstrasza thought you were beyond saving. ALEXSTRASZA!"

Orphea just breathed out, and became aware of more pulses of healing magic infusing themselves into her body, mending the wounds she'd taken. Enough blood reached her brain for it to realise that other people were standing around the... kind of bed?

Her eyes fell shut of their own accord. It was like only a split second passed.

They opened and she felt like she'd been steamrolled with the kind of exhaustion that comes from a full day's intense exercise. But strangely enough, as she pried herself from the bed... she felt fine..?

"Orphea."

She turned. "Oh, Deckard. How... long was I out?"

"Two days." Murmured the old man, as he sat in the corner of the infirmary. "You are quite lucky that we had so few injured soldiers. It took the full attention of every healer but myself to save you from that."

"Er..."

"You are not to do something that reckless again! Power matters not if it sends you to an early grave!" Deckard said sternly, thumping the butt of his cane into the earth indignantly.

Orphea nodded. "Can... no, wait. Two days?! Then what's happened while I've been gone?"

Deckard shook his head. "The Raven Lord has surrounded the tower in an impenetrable barrier of energy. Alexstrasza says that he fueled it by stealing the lives of his human army. We... have been attempting to find a way to break through."

"I'll go there now. Where's Delia? And can I get a horse to ride up the hill-"

Deckard held up a hand to stop her, and pulled the tent's door open. Outside were a few more tents, and beyond them Orphea saw a huge wall of energy. "She will be most eager to hear your apology for almost throwing away your life. Sacrifice means much less when it is not needed, Orphea. So please... do take proper care. I do not want to see you die- and I will be quite angry if you do!" He said with the very barest trace of humor. "Now go, I will make sure the rest of the sensible soldiers get their medicine."

Orphea sheepishly walked out of the tent, and int the main campsite. Heads turned to look at her. Some whispered. But the whispers were in tones of hused respect, and the odd person even couldn't contain their excitement at seeing her. It was a bizarre feeling.

Delia was standing in front of the barrier, along with a few men and heroes. A few people were rhythmically stabbing it with swords, although the attacks bounced off.

"Hey, I'm back." Said Orphea casually.

Delia whirled on the spot and marched over. "If it weren't for the fact I'm wearing metal gauntlets I'd slap you right now for pulling that stunt in battle!" She got right up to Orphea. "...So please, for the love of all that is sacred, learn to leave some work to others."

Orphea nodded. "I... wow, that's a large request." She looked past Delia. "My father locked us out, huh?

"Nothing has been able to get in or out of that barrier." Delia stepped aside and guided Orphea up to it. "We've tried everything, but the warding on this thing must have been prepared years in advance."

Orphea looked around. Alexstrasza and Ereshkistrasza were inspecting the barrier, with a few more dragons in human form around them. Soldiers milled around the camp that appeared to be a forward base. Raynor was talking to Varian about... something.

Orphea put a hand on the barrier. "...Oh, wonderful." She deadpanned.

Delia leaned in to see what Orphea was doing. "Um..? Do you have a suggestion? We thought you might, since you're the heiress..."

"Hey, how many tales have an ending part where 'The Hero must face their greatest challenge alone...', for the pinnacle of drama with high stakes, to show off how cool the hero is?" Asked Orphea.

"A lot. Why do you ask?" Delia looked at the barrier like she suspected something she wouldn't like was coming.

"You know how most people would jump at the chance to be the big hero, and finish off the world-ending threat as a lone badass, as their duty demands?"

"Yep."

"...Forget that, because I'm taking an elite squad in." Orphea said succinctly. "Consider it my first attempt to take everyone's advice and split my work a bit."

Her hands worked on the barrier, drawing runes. Delia watched in amazement as the sigils sunk into the dome, magic curling around Orphea's hands. The sorceress herself frowned with increasing intensity as she worked, before eventually muttering "Crafty little..." under her breath, and drawing more runes. "I'm going to have to use the family secret to get in. Damn it."

"Family secret?" Delia asked.

"It's a long story..." Orphea muttered. "But basically... uh... Oersted came to the Nexus alone. And used polymorph to start up his bloodline because he couldn't afford to leave the Dark Nexus unguarded, until some other people arrived here... No, nevermind all that. All I need to ask it that whoever I take in there apart from you, don't squirm around on my back or I'll have to spend hours feeling horrendously uncomfortable. Oh, and maybe send your soldiers away and swear the other heroes to secrecy? This secret has been one of our best kept..."

"Orphea, I literally don't know what you're talking about." Delia said flatly. "Just tell me how you're getting through the barrier, and how many people you can take."

Orphea put a hand on her chin and stared at the barrier. "...How comfortable would you be if a dragon snatched you up in its' talons?"

"...Probably scared, kind of honoured?" Delia looked at Orphea.

"Great. I think I can get four of us in here, so... you're obviously going to come."

Delia nodded. "I didn't come this far to let my vengeance slip away."

"Raynor probably knows more about safely invading a building than either of us." Reasoned Orphea. "And we need a healer, so maybe... The Spectral Wyrm? And we can round things out with Angel."

"I don't object to this team... Varian can take care of my army, along with Hartmut and any other heroes." Delia said. "But how are you getting through?"

Orphea smiled, and stood back. "...Well, that's a secret." She grinned. "Make your preparations. We can attack when you're ready. Don't worry about me, the healers completely restored me. I feel better than I've ever been."

Delia stood up. "...Alright. If you're sure, then I don't want to waste time. I'll gather the team."


	22. Chapter 19: Engulfing Oblivion

Five people stood in front of the barrier, as the army moved back. It was something Orphea had asked for personally, but Delia had played it off under the pretense of the barrier potentially exploding outwards once they passed through. No need to risk people lingering behind against orders.

Orphea looked at her personally selected team. Delia, the princess of King's Crest and the best spearwoman it had. Even without the mount she'd always fought atop, she was a competent, lethal warrior. The Spectral Wyrm, a dragon surpassed only by Alexstrasza- but with a far more personal reason for wanting this mission to succeed. Raynor, the man who'd inspired everyone and helped maintain morale and a moral compass. And the mysterious Angel, who'd been there for her people whe she wasn't.

She put her hands together.

The spell was ingrained into her, as it had been her entire family line. Their final secret. And now she was going to have to reveal it... but this price was nothing compared to the towns she'd forsaken.

She lifted from the floor a little and winds of dark magic blew around her, before concenrating into a sphere of smoky gales. The team saw some of the smoke condense into symbols, and then it all cleared.

A distorted voice echoed. "This is our family's secret."

Staring at the barrier balefully was a raven. A raven larger than a horse. Sleek feathers, a sharp beak...

"You're a... druid? But no, no druid would ever act the way you do..." Delia said in curious surprise.

"I don't intend to stay this way for long." Echoed Orphea's voice. "Transforming while carrying the soul of another is... dangerous. Unstable. Wyrm, Angel, get onto my back. I'll pick up Delia and Raynor before I breach the barrier. My magic is the one thing it's not designed to keep out."

The Angel looked surprised, excited even as he carefully got up onto Orphea's back. The Wyrm followed, getting up with graceful ease.

"I never thought you had another trick up your sleeves, Orphea..." The Wyrm noted. "We're ready."

Orphea spread her wings, and kicked away from the floor. Curls of black smoke seemed to blow around her huge form as she flew away from the barrier and looped around, spreading her wings and starting to glide. She got lower and faster, speeding up and hurtling towards the barrier of energy. For a split second she wondered what would happen if she was wrong, and she couldn't extend her aura of power to her friends. Would the impact kill them?

She held her taloned legs out, and grabbed the two waiting people on the ground. And immediately she impacted the barrier.

Blackness consumed them.

* * *

Orphea was aware of some bumps and bruises over her front, but she felt okay. She hopped to her feet, and shrunk back down into her human self, the coffin becoming a separate entity to her again. "Ugh."

'Ugh, indeed.' Added Osiris.

"Is everyone okay?" Orphea looked around. Delia had landed in the flowerbed. The Wyrm and the Angel were both helping Raynor to his feet.

Delia got up, brushing some dirt off her chest. "I'm fine. Raynor, this is your time to shine."

"Alright." Raynor got up, and made his way over to the doors. "Assume every door has a danger behind it. Let someone in armour open the way, and have one of the magic healers ready to save them if they get attacked. All ready?"

"Come. I've got the four best heroes I know of, and I'm the daughter of a realm lord. We can overcome this." Orphea said confidently.

Raynor approached the doors with his gun ready, and took the handle in one hand, ready to rip it open. Delia stood between said door and the rest of the party with her shield, and Orphea prepared a spell.

With a bang, the door was thrown open.

Behind was the foyer. A simple entance hall Orphea had walked through countless times. Even now, it seemed familiar.

They cautiously walked in. Orphea knew there were no physical traps. She knew she would sense any magical traps. The only threat would be any guards...

But the room was empty. The room after was empty.

They crept through the entire lower floor on a thorough sweep, before reaching the staircase. Devoid of any and all life. But Orphea could sense a slight magical power. One that wasn't her father's.

"We need to make a detour." She announced. "There are dungeons below."

Raynor took a second to put the safety on his gun. "I totally respect saving people, but are you sure they won't be safer in there? We can get them afterwards."

Orphea nodded. "This is the right choice. The person I an feel down there... It's my duty to save them. More than anyone else."

There was quiet nodding, until Delia spoke. "If it's a burden of duty, I'm always glad to help you shoulder it."

Orphea took the first step down the lower staircase. "This isn't a burden... it's just being a grateful daughter." She started to descend the steps, feeling a kind of sad regret well up as she walked them. "My burden of saving the Nexus, or at least stopping my father... It's not a burden I asked for. When he first used the Dark Nexus, all I wanted was for him to come back to his senses."

They went deeper down a spiral staircase, into the rocky mountain.

"But he chose that power over me. And now he's killed thousands, and committed atrocities to both my realm and yours." Orphea murmured. "The dungeons are close. Be careful, they're warded. Enemies could be stationed there because of the prisoner, too."

True to prediction, as Raynor slammed this door open, there was a guard lying in wait. The dungeon was a room bathed in red light form many inhibiting artifacts, with cages hanging about and built into the walls. And a monster of a Dark Nexus creature was there, lurking in the corner of the room. It didn't flinch at all as the door banged, only looking with absolute stillness. Orphea only saw it because she was already deeply familiar with the room, and even then... she held a hand across the door, barring her team from entering.

"So, I've returned home." She said into the room. "Or at least, what used to be my home. By the time I understood the fact the Dark Nexus couldn't be overcome by my father... it was too late."

A voice called weakly from one of the cells, and the rest of the group concealed their surprise as an old woman's voice carried out. "Orphea? Is that you?"

She stepped into the room, inwardly preparing a spell, concentrating her energy into one true-striking bolt... and concealing it as best she could. This was a small gamble, but the best to ensure the hostage's safety... just keep talking, act like you're oblivious...

"At first he told me he could contain it. He promised me he could hold the darkness within. But why contain evil, rather than exterminate it? Why build a prison if nobody is to be freed?" She said clearly, as if for the benefit of her group.

The beast lunged.

"Watch Out!" Shouted Neeve.

Orphea did a neat little pirouette, brough up her hand, and flung her spell right between the eyes of the Dark Nexus creature. "Mind your manners." She deadpanned.

With a chunk missing from its' head, it charged forwards. Orphea had a sudden moment of pure terror as she realised she hadn't accounted for not killing it in one blow.

"What the-" It surged forwards, opening a stone mouth wide and closing it around her arm with enough force to press through her protection, tearing through flesh. Orphea shrieked, and drew her other hand back, burning it with anger and shock. "Get... OFF!"

The second blast of power took off the entire head, and the rest rapidly dissolved, tracing back towards a crystal core... which fell to the floor with a chink, revealing a missing shard.

"Oh, I told you not to be a fool..." Neeve uttered from her cell. "What are you doing here, Orphea?"

Orphea looked back with a small smile. "Just what you told me, Neeve. Not to make a fool of myself... unless it makes someone else a bigger one. Raynor, come and smash the lock for me. And then I'll..." She caught a glance from Neeve. "Um, go and get this arm bandaged."

* * *

They made their way to the bedrooms without issue. The place appeared totally empty, save for that one creature in the dungeons...

Orphea wondered if it was actually a guard, or if it was imprisoned just like Neeve... After all, it was the first one they'd fought not to have the core vanish after it was slain. The dull crystal seemed to be empty of any energy, as Delia looked at it in contemplative curiosity.

The Wyrm offered to heal Orpeha more than once, but Neeve soundly ignored her and reached into a cupboard to take out some heavily enchanted bandages, before sternly putting Orphea on a bed and going to work on her arm.

Orphea twitched as magic started to infuse itself into the wound. Nothing on the pain she'd already experienced, but still. "Ow!"

"Hold still, would you?" Neeve started to tie off the bandage. "My eyes aren't what they used to be... hands either for that matter..." She finished with almost surgical speed and accuracy, drawing out a pair of scissors and trimming the end for the bandage easily. "It was reckless of you to come in alone like that... I'm powerful enough to survive a few stray bullets. Don't do that with your father, understand?"

Orphea looked up at Neeve, shifting to sit up. "Hm?"

"He's changed, young lady." Warned Neeve gravely. "Your father is not the same man he once was. _Someone _wounded him, and he's become violent.

Orphea got up, looking at Delia examine the isohedron. The crack in it... seemed familiar. So did the beast, actually. It resembled that thing that had killed the abomination, many months ago. She put a hand into her pocket. It wasn't lost on her that the shard she'd picked up in the throne room had some suspiciously smooth, flat surfaces... She drew out the shard of chaos, still bubbled by her power.

Neeve moved in and immediately picked it from Orphea's psychic grasp, moving it to levitate over her own hands. "Hmm... What do you have here?" She grinned, as Orphea went pale.

"Dont touch that!" She yelped. "It'll corrupt anything it touches!" Orphea snatched it back as Neeve inspected the floating shard, and stuffed it into her pocket. "I've already tried destroying it with Dead Magic, after it helped me prove a point..."

Neeve just folded her arms, ignoring the stares of the rest of the party. She sighed. "You and your father always shared a narrow viewpoint... trying to overcome every problem with force. A ridiculous notion, especially for rulers." Neeve looked at Delia, and this time plucked the dull core from her grasp. "For once, try thinking like your mother. That woman knew the truth! Some evils are so vile, they have to destroy themselves." She pressed the crystal into Orphea's grasp. "Think carefully on those words... and hold onto this core crystal. It's not going to accept the missing shard right now, but in time I think it may just come in useful..."

Orphea looked at the gem like it was a live grenade. "So it IS the core that matches the shard I have?"

Neeve nodded. "Scrying is a useful thing, young lady. Now, what is your plan for killing the Raven Lord?"

Orphea looked at the core in her hands. Empty, bearing only a magical framework...

Suddenly, it all seemed clear.

"A little bit of teamplay, Dead Magic, and... Perhaps a feedback loop." Orphea said, as things fell into place in her head. "Delia, I hope you don't mind if I take the killing blow."

The look on her team's faces was one she'd remember for a long, long time.


	23. Chapter 20: Eldritch Conduit

As they ascended the stairs one last time, to the top floor, Orphea looked back at the Wyrm. "This fight is going to be extremely dangerous. Only I can reasonably expect to take a hit from my father and live, so I don't want to see any heroics from you heroes."

"Tsk, hypocrite..." Delia sighed. "But I will make sure we survive. My lance is sworn to this cause as firmly as it is my kingdom."

They reached the top, seeing a pair of shut doors at the end of the corridor. Awful power emanated from the doors, and Orphea could see the previously immaculate metal had almost totally rusted away in some places, crystallised in others.

"I have to warn you. There's a very real chance that any of us could die here." Orphea said, unable to look away from the door. "If anyone wants to say anything... now's the time."

Raynor just patted her shoulder. "I've got your back, kid. Ain't in my nature to let young folks die."

"We are all quite compelled by your cause. And fear not. I will pull you back from the edge of death as many times as is required." The Wyrm said. "...Delia?"

"...I swore to destroy everything associated with The Raven Lord in vengeance." She gripped her lance tight. "...But I think now he's only associated with the Dark Nexus."

Angel just pulled his hood back. "Feel like I ought to let you all know my name, since we're going up against something crazy like this. I'm Lucio, Tyreal gave me some powers to help uphold justice. Been real nice getting to protect everyone. I'll introduce you guys once he reforms. All you guys. We're in this together, and I don't leave my buddies behind."

Orphea walked forwards. Even getting close to the door, she could feel the full power of the Dark Nexus blasting against her own. It was horrific. A photo negative of what reality should be.

"...Here we go."

* * *

The Chamber of Seals itself was like a bizarre work of art. Apart from a sore hole where Osiris had once been, the rest of the Sarcophagus were undisturbed, and the framework holding them was as clean as the day Orphea had left. But the floor and ceiling were withered and petrified, and even starting to erode into chaos. And where the sealed door to the Dark Nexus had once been, there was a hole.

A gaping hole in reality, chaos magic gushing out into the Nexus. And beyond it was an endless wasteland of grey stone and magical surges, tinged in harsh light.

The stones seemed to arrange themselves into a pathway, as Orphea steeled herself and walked in. Five against one. She crossed a solid opening bridge and found herself fully inside the world of the Dark Nexus. The crystal in her pocket started to buzz with energy, as she looked out over the ruins of Oersted's seal on this side. Her team stood atop a sheer cliff, a drop that would kill anyone below. But stones arranged themselves at the edge, leading towards one floating platform, at the edge of the ruins.

Orphea didn't trust those stones one bit. She bound them in place with her mind as she climbed towards the platform, ever wary of a trap or sudden strike from her father to try and take advantage of the precarious climb. But they reached the top unimpeded, to see a man standing at the far edge of the platform with his back turned.

The team spread out behind Orphea.

"Father."

He turned around, and Orphea saw red crystals growing over the side of his face. "Sidetracked, were we?" He slammed the butt of his staff on the ground. "Your rebellious streak ends now, Orphea."

Inwardly, she knew it was the rambling of a madman. But she couldn't help but let her frustrations come to boil... "Or What?! Looking to break the last of your promises today?"

"You ungrateful brat!" He hissed, drawing his staff back. Everyone fell into a ready stance, holding weapons poised to attack. "I spoiled you, you know that?!" With a blast, Orphea was sent reeling. Everyone struggled to keep their footing, the Wyrm nearly falling into the abyss below.

And the fight began. Orphea flew forwards, and as clearly as she'd ever felt it, her rage was made real. "Spoiled me?! You betrayed me!" Huge jaws snapped shut on him, grinding against a barrier of red magic. But the Raven Lord was unimpeded, slinging a reckless blast of energy at Orphea. She dodged, and moved in to attack. It was a deadly dance, weaving her attacks with her team. She unleashed a great lash that struck her father across his midesction, and then Delia leapt in to bring Gaederg in a lethal arc, the point striking dead accurate but failing to cause real harm nonetheless.

With a flick of his hand the floor beneath the princess exploded with power, and she went stumbling back, before Lucio shot past her at top speed, handling a sword like a professional, looking every part an angel as he zipped past and struck twice, nimbly dodging the counterattacks... until the Raven Lord swung his staff around and managed to almost unbelievably jab him in the chest, winding him. With a kick, Lucio went close to the edge...

Dread. It blossomed in her heart with ease. The Raven Lord barely had time to think before spikes of Dead Magic erupted all around him, spearing his knee. And as he shot Orphea with a quick bolt she felt unlife surge in her veins, restoring her strength. Things seemed to be unfolding well...

The Raven Lord snarled.

He blinked behind Orphea and hit her at point blank with a surge of power, before spinning and firing a barrage of arcane missiles at Raynor, many crashing into his suit and a few piercing through before Delia was in front of him, enchanted armour taking the worst of it. Then he slammed the butt of his staff into the floor, and a shockwave sent Lucio and The Wyrm flying... off the edge.

"ERESHISTRASZA! SAVE HIM!" Orphea yelled, as her father turned back towards her, advancing menacingly, teeth bared like a rabid dog. He brought his cane up and tried to slam it over her head with arcane force, a barrier of magic saving her skull by mere hairs.

And Delia skewered him from behind, ripping her lance out sideways. "For my mother. For my brother." She spat.

But the Raven Lord didn't collapse, his lower half only fading to black fog. He took to the air, floating back over Orphea and raising up a concentrated point of magic, aiming it with cruel fury. It streaked down, and Orphea jumped up, throwing her arms out. Her magical barrier was ripped to shreads by a torrent of crystal shards, but then Osiris reached out, reinforcing it.

"Your strength was mine first, child! I know everything you can do!" The attack redoubled, and Orphea screamed as she felt deep stinging pains where her skin was punched through by the shrapnel, but she knew beyond doubt this attack was too much for Delia to survive. "You drove me to this!"

And then a sensation of weight fell over her.

'Be strong, Orphea. Be strong.'

She felt her powers crumble to ash, as with a clunk, the Sarcophagus hit the floor, its' leather strap destroyed. She fell to her knees, drained. "No!"

The Raven Lord floated down, standing over her. "Just like your mother... You fail to realise that sacrifices must be made to save this world. And now your foolishness has been your undoing..." He held out a palm, gathering an executioner's finishing attack...

And a shotgun shell hit him square in the face, leaving a small gash. "Get back, you damn madman!" Raynor yelled, moving in.

"You know NOTHING of sacrifice!" Delia surged over Orphea, spinning her lance once and then making it fly out in an unpredictable jab, radiant with a pale blue power. It hit his barrier, and Orphea watched as it was sealed, locked inside her father for a brief moment. But she couldn't muster enough power for more than a bolt of magic, weakened as she was.

Her father stepped back, and then a rain of spikes fell onto Delia. Orphea watched as the princess was forced to the floor, a little blood seeping through her armour... and she screamed. In rage, in grief.

"You don't understand a thing, do you?!" Orphea felt magic welling inside her again, burning independently of Osiris. It reached out, calling through the area... "What you've done to _everything our family worked for!_"

A blast of Dead Magic hit the Raven Lord in the chest, knocking him back a little. Then three more. Then ten, twenty, a full storm of attacks. He flung magic out randomly and a barrier appeared before Orphea, shielding her, Raynor and Delia.

Dozens of coffins hovered around the area. The Raven Lord exploded with power, firing wildly at them and breaking several, before putting up his shields to the maximum and rushing for Orphea. "This is OVER!"

Raynor stepped forwads, gun blazing all the way until the Raven Lord reached him, and he braced for impact, grinding backwards all the way to the edge against the frantic push. "Hey, Wyrm, ya better catch me..." He grit his teeth, and looked at Orphea, skull visor saying all it needed to.

His back had turned from her when her father's attack had been intercepted. The countless attacks from the coffins had weakened his barrier, and they kept firing even as chaos broke them apart, releasing the long-serving souls once and for all. Orphea got to her feet, put a hand in her pocket, and took out the shard. A slow step, then a fast step, then a ragged thirteen year old girl running forwards. She raised the shard up and plunged it into her father's back.

The tide of magical energy was immediate and immense.

"GahaAAA!" Red chaos washed over the whole platform, knocking Raynor off, flooring Orphea just in time for her to watch the Sarcophagus of Osiris go careening into the abyss, and Delia wedging her lance between two rocks and clinging one for dear life. She tumbled closer to the edge as the surge of the exploding feedback loop started to peter out, and had a heart-stopping moment as one arm went into open air.

The explosion finished, and Delia ran to her, grabbing her leg. "I've got you! I've got you..." She pulled Orphea up.

Orphea saw a burnt husk of a man looming behind her, and was about to shriek in warning when a golden sword was thrown, piercing his heart. He looked down in surprise, before a shimmering undead dragon landed before him, and blew grey flames over his body for a long three seconds. Raynor and Lucio jumped from the back of the dragon, unloading thier guns into the specter.

Orphea got to her feet as if possessed, and raised her hands. She could see, at the very core of this shadowy thing, a floating blue gemstone. She reached out with her power, and created one simple effect. She took it from it's bearer.

"Goodbye."

The husk vanished, as the Singularity flew from it and struck Orphea's bowtie, marking the new Raven Lady.


	24. Chapter 21: Final Toccata

They limped out of the chaotic realm for the most part. Nobody was uninjured. Orphea could feel the gemstone on her chest infusing her with magical power and potential, but she understood there was a limit to what she could channel.

They stepped into the Chamber of Seals together. The walls were empty.

It struck her then. Osiris was gone. Her entire ancestral line's work, all for naught. The Dark Nexus was still unbound, and would easily break any seal she could try and place on it now. But nonetheless, she shut the doors and willed the Singularity to make them stay shut. It obliged, veiling them with an ethereal lock.

"...We... won..." Said Delia, as if she wasn't certain. "We won?"

"..." Orphea felt so heavy without the presence of her grandfather, watching over her with a calm but snarky attitude. "This is only a temporary victory. My father is dead, his spirit exiled to the farthest reaches of the multiverse... but the damage he has done? We could be invaded again. Have we... failed?"

"Hey, c'mon girl." Raynor said, sounding tired but sure. "You succeeded. Sure, there's more problems out there... but I don't think anyone in their right mind would say you didn't win, today. No more hordes of monsters ravaging your people. We got time to plan our next move. And..." He looked at the racks on the wall. "...You're alive. That's better than a lot of poor folk can say after things like this come knocking. You even managed to keep your home intact."

"...Yes. I did." Orphea took a deep breath. "You people... can tell the army. I just... need to talk to Neeve. About my father."

Delia nodded, and reached out to Orphea. "Let's make this the start of something good between our countries. I'll see you in a few hours, Orphea. Or... should I call you the Raven Lady?"

Ereshkistrasza gave Orphea a hug. "Thank you." She whispered.

* * *

Orphea stood on the balcony of Neeve's quarters, looking across the land.

Neeve stood next to her.

"I did it." She said.

"That you did. Your mother would be proud of you..." Neeve seemed to leave something off the end of that sentence, but it was genuine.

Orphea looked down. One last emotion went through her, one that did not manifest normally- or would even stop the others manifesting. One very rare for someone of her confidence and recklessness. Shame. "He's still out there. My father's soul is... lingering."

There was an uneasy silence for a few moments.

"This isn't over." Orphea said, in a way that suggested she wished she could have the luxury of living in ignorance.

Neeve just tutted. "Don't be silly, of course it's not over." She leaned over the balcony, looking down at the tents below, at the few heroes walking down the hills. "But we won, and that just might have to do for now."

They stood there in silence for almost a minute, before Neeve clapped her hands together one.

"Well, get down there and have a party, Orphea. Your father left a few instructions with me before he died, so don't worry about spending your every waking moment working out what to do about the fact Osiris is gone, and how we're going to deal with the Dark Nexus for good. You've got one day of relaxation and fun, and then it's back to doing what our family does best."

"Insane schemes?" Orphea asked.

"Changing the face of the Nexus, child. Now go on. Shoo." Neeve flicked Orphea once.

Orphea smiled. "Hey, Neeve... you're a wonderful grandmother. I'm lucky to have you."

* * *

And so, in the fields outside the tower, the army celebrated.

And in a week's time, every village had heard the news, the ragged people celebrating.

It was the end of a great struggle for the Nexus. And as news reached many other factions and realms, they started to realise what was happening had been enough to topple the strongest of them... and so started a great chain of events... the chain that would turn this calamity around, and would decide the fate of the Nexus itself...

But that is a story for another time.

For now, I think I shall leave this tale on a high note.

Orphea, two days after her victory, was granted many honorary titles, and now has finally brought her people security. Delia has yet to make any dire mistakes, although she fears for her realm without her. Those heroes who accompanied them are still around, helping as they can, rallying around the threat of the Dark Nexus.

And in the world around her, Thrall leads the survivors of the horde to set wrongs right. Kerrigan's betrayals close on her as she tries to take a new path. Shadowy evils loom in ice, fire and everything between. Artanis and the Protoss struggle valiantly, as Tassadar sees the truth. Nephalem band together, pirates form fleets, Overwatch stands for what justice it can, angels and demons seek to slay each other, the zerg lurk and hunger, and the terrans carve out a life no matter the place.

Such is the Nexus.


End file.
